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PRINCETON,    N.    J. 


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BX    9455     .B4 

Bersier,  Eug  ene,  1831-188 

Saint  Paul's  vision 


Saint   Paul's  Vision 


AND 


OTHER   SERMONS 


REV.    EUGENE    BERSIER 

Pastor  of  V Eglise  de  l'Etoile,  Paris 


TRANSLATED    BY 

MARIE    STEWART 


New   York 
ANSON    D.    F.    RANDOLPH    AND    COMPANY 

900    BRdAnWAY,    COR.    20th    SIRF.ET 


Copyright,  1881, 
Bv  Anson  D.  F.  Randolph  &  Company. 


PRINTED    nV  ST.  JOHNLAND 

KnWARD    O.  JRNKINS,  STEREOTYPE    FOUNDRY, 

ao    north   WILLIAM    ST.,   N.    Y.  SUFFOLK    CO.,   N.    Y. 


PUBLISHERS'    NOTE. 


M.  Bersier  is  widely  known  as  one  of  the  foremost 
pulpit  orators  as  well  as  one  of  the  most  active  Protestant 
pastors  of  France.  No  translation  of  his  sermons  having 
appeared  in  this  country,  it  has  been  thought  that  a  selec- 
tion of  them  would  be  of  interest  and  value  to  the  many 
of  our  countrymen  who  have  heard  Mr.  Bersier  in  his  own 
tongue,  and  in  his  own  pulpit,  or  who  know  him  by  reputa- 
tion ;  as  well  as  to  others  who  may  be  desirous  of  some 
acquaintance  with  the  modern  French  pulpit. 

The  sermons  presented  in  this  volume  were  delivered  by 
the  author  in  the  ordinary  services  of  the  Lord's-day,  to 
his  own  congregation.  They  are  strongly  local  in  their 
coloring,  dealing  with  the  special  and  personal  needs  of 
those  to  whom  he  ministers.  Yet  nevertheless  will  they 
be  found  to  address  themselves  to  the  needs  of  men  and 
women  in  the  great  cities  of  our  own  land.  The  spiritual 
difficulties  which  beset  Christians  in  the  midst  of  the  materi- 
alism and  self-indulgence  of  the  French  metropolis,  are  just 
such  as  are  making  themselves  felt  more  and  more  pain- 
fully among  ourselves. 

In  this  translation  the  attempt  has  been  made  to  retain 
so  far  as  possible  the  idiomatic  form  of  thought  and  mode  of 
expression  of  the  original,  and  to  convey  in  other  words 
the  lights  and  shades  of  the  original,  so  far  as  is  possible 
in  a  translation. 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH, 


Eugene  Bersier,  was  born  February  5th,  1831,  in  the 
small  village  of  Morges,  on  the  borders  of  the  lake  of 
Geneva,  in  Switzerland.  He  is  a  direct  descendant  of 
French  refugees  exiled  from  their  country  at  the  revoca- 
tion of  the  Edict  of  Nantes  (1685),  and  it  is  this  extrac- 
tion which  caused  him  to  look  upon  France  as  his 
adopted  country.  He  studied  at  the  College  of  Geneva. 
From  infancy,  under  the  influence  of  a  pious  mother 
who  was  early  left  a  widow,  he  received  religious  impres- 
sions which  were  never  forgotten.  His  natural  tastes 
were  especially  directed  to  literature,  and  in  college  he 
stood  highest  in  Greek. 

At  the  age  of  sixteen  he  came  to  Paris,  and  was 
present  at  all  the  scenes  of  the  revolution  of  1848.  Then 
he  made  a  visit  to  the  United  States  where  he  became 
familiar  with  the  religious  life  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race. 
During  the  year  1850  he  resided  at  New  Rochelle  on 
Long  Island  Sound,  and  it  was  then  that  he  read 
Macaulay,  Prescott,  and  the  works  of  several  distinguished 
American  theologians.  He  was  most  hospitably  received 
into  the  family  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Robert  Baird  and  often 
heard  the  most  distinguished  of  the  New  York  preachers, 


iv  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


especially  Dr.  Bethune,  Dr.  James  W.  Alexander  and  Mr. 
Beecher. 

It  was  during  his  sojourn  in  America  that  he  deter- 
mined to  become  a  minister  of  the  Gospel,  and  toward 
the  close  of  1850  he  returned  to  Europe  and  to  Geneva, 
where  for  three  years  he  followed  the  course  of  study  in 
the  school  of  theology,  under  such  teachers  as  Drs. 
Gaussen  and  Merle  d'Aubigne.  The  influence  of  a 
former  distinguished  professor,  the  late  Alexander  Vinet 
was  still  powerfully  felt  in  the  theological  school,  and  to 
his  writings  was  largely  due  the  special  type  of  Bersier's 
theology. 

After  having  finished  his  'studies  at  Geneva,  he  sup- 
plemented them  by  a  year's  sojourn  in  the  Universities 
of  Halle  and  Gottingen,  where  he  became  acquainted 
with,  and  highly  appreciated  Drs.  Tholuck  and  J.  Miiller 
and  Dorner. 

Upon  his  return  to  Paris  in  1855,  ^^  ^^^s  called  to 
the  pastorate  of  a  church  in  the  faubourg  Saint  Antoine, 
and  for  three  years  devoted  himself  to  the  evangelization 
of  working  men. 

He  married  the  daughter  of  Dr.  Holland,  co-laborer 
with  the  famous  Agassiz,  and  uncle  of  M.  Edmond  de 
Pressensé.  In  i860  he  was  called  as  assistant  to  the 
latter,  in  the  charge  of  the  Église  Taitbout.  It  was 
there,  before  an  intelligent,  cultivated  audience,  that 
he  demonstrated  his  calling  as  a  preacher.  His  first 
volume  of  sermons  published  in  1864  had  a  wide  cir- 
culation, reaching  its  tenth  edition,  and  was  soon  trans- 
lated into  several  foreign  tongues.  M.  Bersier,  was  then 
called  to  preach  in  a  number  of  towns  in  the  provinces. 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


At  Geneva  he  gave  two  series  of  lectures,  on  "Chris- 
tian Ethics"  (1866),  and  on  "Independent  Ethics" 
(1868).  It  was  on  this  latter  subject  that  he  presented 
a  paper  the  same  year  at  the  general  conference  of  the 
Evangelical  Alliance  at  Amsterdam.  He  then  published 
an  essay  on  "Solidarité,"  ("The  Oneness  of  the  Human 
Race.") 

There  followed  the  fatal  year  of  1870  and  that  war 
which  Bersier  did  not  hesitate  to  pronounce  from  the 
beginning  foolish  and  wicked.  Shut  up  for  five  months 
in  Paris,  he  was  one  of  the  principal  organizers  of  the 
service  of  ambulances,  and  as  chief  of  the  Protestant 
litter-men  {brancardiers),  he  was  present  at  all  the  battles 
which  took  place  under  the  walls  of  the  capital.  At 
the  same  time  he  was  obliged  by  force  of  circumstances 
to  exercise  with  his  colleagues  M.  de  Pressensé  and  M. 
Coquerel,  the  role  of  political  moderator,  in  founding 
and  often  presiding  at  the  Club  of  the  Porte  Saint-Martin, 
which  was  the  central  rallying  point  of  conservative  re- 
publicans, opposed  to  the  communistic  ideas.  When 
the  Commune  burst  forth,  he  remained  at  his  post  and 
protested  publicly  against  the  imprisonment  of  the  arch- 
bishop of  Paris.  He  combated  the  Commune  in  a  series 
of  letters  published  by  the  "Journal  de  Genève."  At  the 
close  of  the  war,  in  1871,  he  received  the  cross  of  the 
legion  of  honor. 

When  peace  was  restored  a  new  theatre  of  action  was 
awaiting  M.  Bersier.  He  had  founded  in  1868  evening 
religious  meetings  in  the  west  quarter  of  Paris  near  the 
porte  de  Neuilly.  This  work  soon  became  so  extensive 
that  it  was  proposed  to  erect  a  church  there,  which  M. 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


Bersier  was  to  take  entire  charge  of,  and  sever  his  con- 
nection with  the  EgUse  Taitbout.  After  two  years  of 
work  interrupted  by  a  serious  malady  which  endangered 
his  Hfe,  he  succeeded  in  raising  the  sum  of  five  hundred 
thousand  francs,  and  in  erecting  on  the  Avenue  <le  Grande 
Armée,  a  large  Gothic  church  which  is  called,  "l'Église 
de  l'Étoile,"  a  few  steps  from  the  Arc  de  Triomphe, 
whence  its  name. 

The  church  was  dedicated  Nov.  28th,  1874.  It  will 
seat  from  twelve  hundred  to  fifteen  hundred  persons,  and 
it  is  always  crowded,  so  much  so  that  they  contemplate 
enlarging  it.  M.  Bersier  has  introduced  a  liturgical  ser- 
vice, with  responses  from  the  congregation,  strongly  re- 
sembling the  service  in  the  English  Church,  although  the 
doctrine  expressed  in  the  prayers  is  precisely  the  same  as 
tradition  hands  down  from  the  ancient  Reformed  Church 
of  France.  He  has  expressed  his  views  on  this  subject 
in  the  preface  of  his  Liturgy.  He  regards  the  simple 
service  of  the  Reformed  Presbyterian  Church  as  somewhat 
too  unimpressive  and  cold  for  the  sympathetic  nature  of 
the  French;  that  it  gives  too  great  a  prominence  to  the 
preacher,  and  does  not  sufficiently  meet  the  needs  of  a 
common  worship.  This  attempt  to  ameliorate  the  Prot- 
estant form  of  service  caused  at  first,  naturally,  some 
severe  criticisms.  However  it  responded  to  a  great  want, 
as  its  success  has  proved. 

M.  Bersier  has  published  up  to  the  present  time  six 
volumes  of  sermons  which  have  gone  through  many 
editions.  They  at  last  attracted  the  attention  of  the  Ro- 
man Catholic  public,  and  one  of  the  most  celebrated 
French  critics,    Mon.   de  Sacy,   devoted  to  them  an  ex- 


BIOGRA rriICA  L    SKE  TCH. 


tended  article  in  the  "Journal  des  Débats."  This  appre- 
ciation from  the  pen  of  a  Catholic  writer,  is  of  particular 
interest. 

"As  a  moralist,"  writes  De  Sacy,  "M.  Bersier  I  have 
no  hesitation  in  saying  is  equal  to  the  most  illustrious 
examples  of  our  ancient  Catholic  pulpit.  No  one  can 
surpass  him  in  truthfulness  and  in  keenness  of  perception. 
What  is  he  as  an  orator  .f"  Has  he  the  delivery,  the  action, 
the  gesture  of  the  orator.?  1  presume  so,  without  ever 
having  heard  him.  But  that  he  is  an  excellent  writer, 
without  affectation,  without  vanity,  that  he  has  attractive- 
ness, good  taste,  that  his  style  is  always  the  true  expres- 
sion of  his  thoughts,  the  mirror  of  his  soul,  I  affirm  from 
knowledge.  Seldom  have  I  been  so  charmed  as  by  these 
sermons  of  M.   Bersier." 

Although  an  advocate  in  theory  of  the  separation  of 
Church  and  State,  M.  Bersier  in  1877  reunited  his  church 
to  the  consistory  of  the  Established  Reformed  Church  of 
Paris.  He  expressed  his  views  on  this  subject  in  his 
discourses  on  "The  Church"  published  in  that  year.  He 
thinks  that  the  Reformed  Church  of  France  in  spite  of  the 
rationalistic  elements  which  it  contains  through  fault  of 
its  organization,  is  still  the  church  which  has  the  greatest 
chance  of  exercising  a  serious  influence  upon  the  nation; 
that  from  its  historic  past,  from  the  fact  that  the  Protes- 
tant population  is  deeply  attached  to  it,  it  can  have  a 
great  future,  and  it  is  not  well  to  enfeeble  it  by  premature 
secessions,  which  in  depriving  it  of  its  best  elements  will 
deliver  it  over  to  the  representatives  of  free  thinking.  It 
was  under  the  influence  of  these  considerations  that  other 
pastors,  until  that  time  attached  to  the  Free  Church, — 


viii  BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH. 


Messrs.  Théodore  Monod  and  John  Bost, — ^joined,   with 
M.  Bersier,  the  Established  Church. 

Among  the  latest  publications  of  Bersier,  may  be  men- 
tioned his  letter  to  M.  Jules  Ferry,  Minister  of  Public 
Instruction,  in  which  he  denounces  with  energy  the  in- 
tolerant measures  which  the  French  government  proposed 
to  take  in  the  matter  of  education  against  the  Catholic 
clergy,  and  especially  the  famous  Article  Seven  which  was 
fortunately  rejected  by  the  French  senate.  Very  recently 
M.  Bersier  has  obtained  from  the  government  an  act  of 
justice  which  has  attracted  the  attention  of  the  French 
press;  it  is  the  official  promise  of  the  concurrence  of  this 
government  in  the  erection  in  the  heart  of  Paris,  facing 
the  Palace  of  the  Louvre,  of  a  statue  of  Admiral  Coligny, 
the  illustrious  victim  of  St.   Bartholomew. 


CONTENTS. 


SERMON 

I.  ST.   Paul's  vision   . 

II.  MOSES     .... 

—  III.  THE    VISION    OF    ELIJAH      . 
IV.  THE    LIGHT    OF   THE    WORLD 

V.  THE    UNEQUAL   GIFTS 

—  VI.  LAZARUS    AT   THE    RICH    MAn's    DOOR 
VII.  THE    SLAVE    ONESIMUS 

VIII.  THE    STATE    OF   DOUBT 

IX.  THE    STATE    OF    DOUBT    (SECOND    SERMON) 

—    X.  DISCOURAGEMENT      .... 


I 
29 

57 

85 

113 

163 
189 
215 
251 


I. 


I. 

$t.  Paul's   Vision. 

"And  a  vision  appeared  to  Paul  in  the  night.  There  stood  a 
man  of  Macedonia  and  prayed  him,  saying.  Come  over  into  Mace- 
donia and  help  us. 

'■'■  And  after  he  had  seen  the  vision,  immediately  we  endeavored  to 
go  into  Macedonia,  assuredly  gathering,  that  the  Lord  had  called 
us  for  to  preach  the  Gospel  unto  the?n." 

Acts  xvi.  9,  10. 

I  CAN  never  picture  to  myself  without  emo- 
tion the  moment  when  Saint  Paul  reached  the 
sea  shore  at  Troas,  and  for  the  first  time  stood 
gazing  across  the  blue  waters  of  the  Hellespont 
towards  Europe.  The  country  which  surrounded 
him  was,  as  we  know,  one  favored  above  all 
others,  where,  under  a  splendid  sky,  nature  had 
lavished  her  beauties;  the  most  ancient  poetry 
had  peopled  its  shores  with  heroes  and  gods. 
But  the  great  apostle  was  not  arrested  by  such 
thoughts;  his  heart  and  his  life  were  devoted  to 
another  end.     I  imagine  what  his  feelings  must 


Sr.   PAUL'S   VISION. 


have  been  when  he  saw  the  coast  of  old  Europe 
in  the  distance. 

Ah'eady,  in  the  first  rapture   of  his   mission- 

/.  ary  ardor,  had  he  traversed  the  entire  western 
Asia,  proclaiming-  Jesus  Christ.  It  would  seem 
as  if  so  many  perils  encountered,  so  many  fa- 
tigues endured,  might  have  satisfied  him.  An- 
other man  would  have  been  crushed  under  the 
spiritual  burden  of  the  many  churches  founded 
and  the  thousands  of  souls  converted  to  the  liv- 

^y  ing  God.  But  his  heart  expanded  under  the  task, 
his  ardor  grew  with  the  difficulties;  it  was  Europe 
there  that  drew  him.  Beyond  the  sea  rolling  at 
his  feet  he  sees  Greece  with  her  arts  and  her  di- 
vinities which  had  charmed  the  world:  he  sees 
Rome,  the  mistress  city,  with  all  peoples  kneel- 
ing before  her;  he  takes  in  this  world  with  the 
broad  glance  of  his  holy  apostolic  ambition;  he 
dreams  this  dream,  strange,  extravagant,  of  sub 
jecting  it  to  Jesus  Christ. 

Then,  as  the  Scripture  tells  us,  when  night 
came  on,  Paul  had  a  vision.  A  man  appeared 
before  him,  and  calling  him,  said,  "  Come  over 
the  sea  and  save  us."  Thus  God  was  answering 
his  prayers  and  was  transforming  the  ardent 
desire  of  his  heart  into  a  positive  call. 


ST.  PAUUS   VISION. 


"Come  and  save  us!"  It  was  the  cry  of  the 
old  world,  a  cry  of  distress,  a  cry  of  despair. 
It  was  the  last  word  of  that  magnificent  civil-  J 
ization,  of  that  wonderful  development  of  hu- 
manity. So  many  philosophers  and  sages,  so 
many  schools  and  academies,  so  many  discus- 
sions and  researches,  so  many  laws  and  consti- 
tutions, so  many  orators  and  writers  of  genius, 
to  end  with  this  final  word — "  Come  and  save 
us!"  Come  and  save  us;  for  doubt  is  tormenting 
us;  for  after  having  been  buffeted  about  upon 
the  troubled  waves  of  human  thought  we  have 
stranded  upon  the  quicksands  of  an  eternal  scep- 
ticism. Come  and  save  us  !  for  corruption  is  con- 
suming us,  the  gangrene  has  penetrated  to  the 
marrow  of  our  bones  ;  for  we  no  longer  know 
what  is  purity  ;  our  depravities  horrify  nature 
herself.  Come  and  save  us  !  for  we  are  all  sjayes, 
all  kneeling  at  the  foot  of  a  being  who  was  yes- 
terday called  Caligula,  who  to-morrow  will  be 
called  Nero.  Come,  for  our  gods  are  dead,  our 
temples  silent,  our  priests  scoffing  at  their  own 
prayers  and  sacrifices.  Come  !  for  we  are  suffer- 
ing, and  there  is  no  more  hope  for  us. 

The   apostle   then   is   about   to   embark   upon 
this  vast  enterprise.     Often  before,  over  the  sea 


ST.   PAUL'S   VISION. 


which  he  is  to  cross,  conquerors  have  passed  with 
their  powerful  armies.  This  was  the  route  which 
Xerxes,  Alexander,  Caesar,  followed;  and  every 
time  that  these  formidable  multitudes  passed 
with  unfurled  banners  and  immense  prepara- 
tions it  was  said,  "  The  world  is  going  to  change 
masters."  To-day  it  is  only  a  bark  rapidly  bear- 
ing from  one  shore  to  the  other,  four  ignorant 
men,  Paul  of  Tarsus,  Luke,  Silas,  and  Timothy. 
No  one,  it  is  likely,  notices  their  voyage;  but 
these  men  are  going  to  found  a  kingdom  which 
shall  never  perish;  and  we,  the  descendants  of 
those  races  to  whom  they  were  carrying  the 
word  of  life,  let  us  hail  them  and  bless  their 
memory. 

This  grand  page  from  the  apostolic  times  will 
serve  to-day  for  our  instruction.  That  which 
happened  at  Troas  has  been  re-enacted  in  all 
ages  of  the  Church,  and  in  the  history  of  every 
Christian  soul.  All  of  us,  if  we  are  Christians, 
have  heard  the  cries  of  human  misery,  physical 
or  moral,  and  these  sorrows  have  called  to  us  to 
come  to  their  relief.  Have  you  understood  these 
appeals  .''  Are  you  fulfilling  this  mission  }  This 
is  the  twofold  question  I  wish  to  put  to  you. 

If  Paul,  once  a  bigoted  Jew  and  an  unrelenting 


ST.   PAUL'S   VISION. 


Pharisee,  was  moved  by  the  cry  of  distress  from 
the  old  world,  it  was  because  he  had  become  an 
apostle  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  was  following  Him 
who  first  had  seen  the  sombre  vision  of  a  lost 
humanity,  and  had  given  Himself  up  to  save  it. 
Paul  saw  in  Jesus  Christ,  his  king.  Now  what  is 
the  distinctive  feature  of  this  kingdom  .■*  It  is  a 
kingdom  of  love  and  of  sacrifice.  Those  who 
before  and  after  Him  have  reigned  over  men 
have  said  to  themselves,  "We  will  ascend." 
He  said,  "I  will  descend."  They  said,  "We 
will  rule."  He  said,  "  I  will  serve."  Jesus  Christ 
humbled  Hirnself,  He  looked  down;  He  heard 
the  groaning  of  a  guilty  humanity,  and  that 
He  might  save  it,  He  descended  to  the  very 
bottom  of  the  abyss  of  our  sorrows  and  our 
condemnation. 

Like  master,  like  disciples  !  While  by  nature 
we  are  prone  to  look  above  us,  toward  whatever 
attracts  and  flatters  our  ambition  and  pride,  Je- 
sus Christ  would  ever  recall  our  thoughts  to 
things  beneath  us.  He  did  not  speak  of  the 
kings  of  the  earth.  Of  all  those  whose  names 
had  resounded  through  the  world,  Jesus  said  not 
a  word;  and  what  a  lesson  in  this  silence  !  But 
He  spoke  constantly  of  those  to  whom  no  one 


8  ST.   PAUL'S   VISION. 


before  had  paid  attention.  To  them  He  sought 
to  direct  the  interest  and  love  of  His  disciples. 
At  the  last  day  He  will  recognize  as  His  own, 
and  will  welcome  into  glory  such  as  have  visited 
and  succored  these;  He  puts  Himself  in  their 
place,  He  makes  Himself  in  some  way  their  rep- 
resentative in  all  the  ages.  In  assisting  them,  it 
is  He  who  is  assisted  and  who  is  loved:  and  the 
better  to  instruct  His  disciples  how  they  should 
serve  their  brethren,  at  the  moment  of  leaving 
them  He  girded  up  His  loins,  knelt  before  them, 
and  washed  their  feet,  taking  thus  the  posture 
and  the  service  of  the  lowest  slave,  and  adding, 
"That  which  I  have  done  shall  ye  do  also." 

Everywhere  this  idea  reappears  in  His  teach- 
ings. It  strikes  me  particularly  in  one  of  His 
most  familiar  parables,  one  too  of  those  least 
dwelt  upon  because  we  dread  its  meaning  so 
clear  and  which  so  utterly  condemns  our  selfish- 
ness. "Then  said  He  also  to  them  that  bade 
Him,  when  thou  makest  a  dinner  or  a  supper,  call 
not  thy  friends,  nor  thy  brethren,  neither  thy 
kinsmen  nor  thy  rich  neighbors,  lest  they  also 
bid  thee  again  ('Lest  they  also  bid  thee'!  how 
many  are  there  who  know  anything  of  this  fear  ?), 
and  a  recompense  be  made  thee"  (Luke  xiv.  12). 


ST.   PAUL'S   VISION. 


Admirable  illustration  of  the  way  in  which  relig- 
ion, practiced  in  the  spirit  of  the  Master,  ought 
to  act  for  the  transforming  of  society  !  Imagine 
this  spirit  comprehended  and  penetrating  the 
world,  what  would  we  see  ?  All  superiority, 
natural  or  acquired,  wealth,  power,  science,  tal- 
ent, genius,  would  constitute  man  a  minister  to 
those  beneath  him.  These  endowments,  which 
sin  has  so  often  made  the  instruments  of  despot- 
ism and  pride,  would  become  the  instruments 
of  the  spiritual  elevation  and  gradual  emancipa- 
tion of  all.  Those  who  are  highest  would  help 
those  who  are  beneath  them  to  rise  to  the  light 
and  to  true  moral  freedom.  Instead  of  meagre 
alms  thrown  carelessly  into  the  gulf  of  human 
misery,  instead  of  a  few  deeds  done  to  ease  the 
conscience  and  of  which  one  soon  tires,  there 
would  be  a  constant  prepossession  turning  the 
heart  toward  misery  and  suffering,  as  surely  and 
naturally  as  electricity  turns  the  magnetized 
needle  toward  the  north  star. 

Then  we  should  see  civilized  and  Christian 
nations,  instead  of  making  their  superiority  an 
instrument  of  conquest,  turning  toward  those 
who  are  still  plunged  in  the  degradation  of  pa- 
ganism  and  barbarism,  and   saying  to  them,  in 


lO  ST.   PAUL'S   VISION. 


the  language  of  the  parable,  "Come  and  sit 
down  with  us."  Then  the  learned,  instead  of 
shutting  themselves  up  in  that  aristocratic  dis- 
dain by  which,  as  they  pretend,  impartial  science 
should  be  recognized,  would  say  to  the  ignorant, 
"Come,  sit  at  the  table  of  science,  and  partake  of 
it."  Then  those  who  are  rich,  instead  of  regard- 
ing wealth  as  a  pedestal  for  their  selfishness  and 
the  means  of  an  insolent  display,  which  adds  noth- 
ing to  their  influence  if  on  the  contrary  it  does 
not  destroy  it,  would  comprehend  that  God  con- 
fers upon  them  a  true  patronage  of  intelligent 
solicitude  for  those  who  have  no  leisure,  and  who 
are  crushed,  as  it  were,  by  daily  cares  and  the 
burden  of  unceasing  toil.  Yes,  suppose  society, 
inspired  by  this  spirit,  acting  under  its  strong  and 
steady  impulse,  to  make  light,  life  and  progress 
to  penetrate  even  to  the  lowest  strata,  could  we 
not  hope  for  much,  and  would  we  not  be  able  to 
overcome  at  length,  otherwise  than  by  force,  that 
levelling,  savage  spirit,  those  hatreds  of  class  to- 
ward class,  to  which  I  often  revert  with  persis- 
tency and  grief,  because  they  are  the  peril  and 
shame  of  our  brilliant  civilization  ? 

And  what  is   the   first   condition   of  all   this  } 
It  is  that   Christian  love  take  possession  of  the 


ST.   PAUL'S    VISION. 


heart;  it  is  that,  transformed  by  the  spirit  of  the 
Master,  we  learn  from  Him  to  look  not  above 
but  beneath  us;  it  is  that  like  St.  Paul  we  see  in 
our  visions  those  who  suffer  and  are  lost;  it  is 
that  like  him  we  hear  their  cry  of  distress  and 
their  appeal. 

I  have  drawn  the  ideal;  we  must  now  compare 
with  it  the  reality. 

Have  you  never  felt  a  profound  sadness  in 
looking  over  a  map  of  the  world  and  noticing 
what  a  narrow  space  Christianity  occupies  on  it } 
I  know  all  the  great  and  heroic  work  which  has 
been  done  in  the  field  of  missions,  particularly 
in  this  century,  since  Christianity  has  awakened 
to  the  fact  that  she  is  here  on  earth  to  win 
the  world  to  God.  I  know  all  the  marvellous 
acts  of  devotion  which  Japan,  China,  Thibet, 
Oceanica,  and  Africa  have  witnessed.  I  know 
the  streams  of  Catholic  and  Protestant  blood 
which  have  been  shed  there  for  the  Gospel;  the 
long  waitings,  the  shocking  sacrifices,  the  terri- 
ble isolations,  the  agonies  worse  than  death 
which  have  been  endured;  and  I  know  the  re- 
sults obtained;  I  know  that  Asia  and  Africa 
are,  as  it  were,  enclosed  by  a  cordon  of  mis- 
sionary stations,  and  that  in  this  ofttimes  dead- 


S7\   PAUL'S   VISION. 


\y  siege  the  combatants  never  flinch;  I  know  the 
churches  founded  under  every  sky  and  announc- 
ing in  tongues,  hitherto  pagan,  the  kingdom  of 
Jesus  Christ;  I  count  with  gratitude  upon  the 
first-fruits  of  the  great  harvests  which  await  the 
future.  But  can  these  results  satisfy  us  ?  does 
this  suffice  us  ?  does  it  not  seem  to  you  that  the 
pagan  world  turns  to  the  Christian  world  and 
says  to  it,  "Come  and  save  me?"(^ 

On  the  one  side,  Europe  and  America  over 
which  the  light  is  shining;  on  the  other,  the 
rest  of  the  world  yet  wrapped  in  darkness  !  On 
the  one  side,  civilization  with  all  its  refinements, 
all  its  treasures,  all  its  sciences;  on  the  other,  a 
barbarism  often  savage,  a  cowardly  despotism, 
ferocious  and  without  restraint,  peoples  sinking 
into  death,  terrible  famines  periodically  spread- 
ing over  India  and  Persia.  Oh,  does  it  not  seem 
that  this  enormous  inequality  ought  year  by  year 
to  disappear  ?  Does  it  not  seem  that  nations 
whom  a  superior  life  enlightens  and  reanimates 
should  unite  in  disseminating  through  the  rest 
of  the  world  some  little  progress,  some  little 
justice,  some  little  humanity  ?  And  then  when 
it  is  said  that  hitherto  the  superior  races  have 
oftenest  used  their  power  and  their  intelligence 


ST.  PAUL'S  vis/on:  13 


only  to  oppress  and  plunder  the  weaker;  that 
their  policy  toward  them  has  been  for  centuries 
a  long  series  of  iniquities;  that  it  is  the  sinister 
aureole  with  which  "they  have  encircled  their 
name  of  Christian, — does  it  not  seem  that  an 
imperious  sense  of  justice  should  urge  them  to  a 
mission  of  reparation  and  peace  ?  Alas  !  we 
would  it  were  so;  but  do  you  know  what  these 
Christian  nations  are  doing  at  this  moment  ? 
They  are  on  the  watch  against  each  other,  they 
are  filling  their  arsenals,  and  no  one  knows  but 
on  the  morrow  they  may  be  in  bloody  conflict. 
Yes,  these  men  you  have  met  in  all  parts  of 
Europe,  the  men  whom  you  have  seen  asso- 
ciated in  the  same  labors,  honestly  joined  in  the 
same  noble  researches  in  science,  inspired  to 
enthusiasm  by  the  same  splendors  of  art  and 
nature,  their  hearts  vibrating  with  the  same  emo- 
tions, and  must  I  say  it,  bowing  before  the  same 
God,  praying  to  the  same  Saviour, — alas  !  they 
will  meet  one  day  in  international  warfare  upon 
some  yet  unknown  spot  of  Europe,  upon  that 
battlefield  of  the  future  where  your  own  beloved 
son  may  fall.  See  where  we  stand  !  See  how 
civilized  peoples  are  fulfilling  their  mission  to- 
ward the  rest  of  the  world. 


14  ST.   PAUL'S   VISION. 


Oh,  that  the  Church  at  least  understood  her 
mission  !  Oh,  that  she  heard  the  call  of  the 
world  and  answered  it  !  I  have  recalled  what 
she  has  accomplished  in  our  days;  but  is  there 
yet  in  this  anything  that  appears  like  a  great 
triumph  ?  In  presence  of  these  two  thirds  of  our 
fellow-men  still  heathen,  have  we  not  felt  our 
conscience  tremble  under  the  sting  of  remorse  ? 
Have  we  not  heard  the  call  which  troubled  St. 
Paul  ?  Ah,  do  I  speak  of  the  heathen  !  When 
you  traverse  our  large  cities,  when  you  see  those 
thoughtless,  frivolous  crowds,  when  vice  and 
degradation,  elegant  or  vulgar,  encounter  you 
on  your  way,  when  cynical  atheism  lurks  at  the 
bottom  of  so  many  souls,  and  despair  at  the  bot- 
tom of  so  many  sorrows,  think  you  that  the 
Church  can  be  still  and  say,  "  I  have  done,  O 
God,  the  work  Thou  hast  given  me  to  do"? 
How  can  we  help  groaning  at  thought  of  so 
much  fruitless  debate,  of  intestine  strifes  which 
consume  our  vitality,  our  resources,  and  our 
time  ?  For  these  controversies  the  material  will 
never  be  wanting;  the  first  incident  suffices  to 
rekindle  the  fiame,  and  then  you  know  too  well 
how  quickly  it  takes   possession  of  the   Church. 

You  will    say  to  mc,   that   the  truth  when  as- 


^7^.    PAUL'S    VISION.  15 


sailed,  must  be  defended.  I  know  it  and  would 
guard  against  counselling  here,  under  the  pre- 
text of  charity  to  others,  a  cowardly  indifference 
towards  the  revealed  truth  of  which  we  should  be 
the  depositaries  and  witnesses;  I  believe,  more- 
over, that  to  give  the  truth  to  others  is  the  first 
and  best  proof  of  charity  toward  them;  I  believe 
also,  that  to  weaken  the  truth  is  the  surest  way 
to  dry  up  this  charity  at  the  very  fountain  head. 
Yes,  let  us  defend  the  truth,  or  rather,  believe 
me,  let  us  assert  it  as  fully  and  faithfully  as  we 
can,  leaving  it  oftener  than  we  have  done  to  de- 
fend itself.  Let  us  first  believe  in  it  more  fully 
ourselves,  and  let  us  have  faith  in  its  intrinsic  ^ 
power,  rather  than  in  the  arguments  by  which 
we  support  it.  Let  us  search  the  depths  and 
riches  of  it;  let  us  be  the  priests  and  worship- 
pers of  the  sanctuary  before  becoming  its  guard- 
ians ;  let  us  keep  ourselves  nearer  the  altar 
and  less  often  on  the  outer  battlements.  Let 
us  be  less  the  advocates  of  the  Gospel  than  its 
witnesses.  Let  us  be  more  engaged  in  being 
faithful  to  the  truth  than  in  reasoning  with  our 
adversaries.  There  is  a  triumph  in  dispute  which 
is  but  a  snare,  and  which  leaves  the  mind  dis- 
satisfied and  the  conscience  troubled.     To  serve 


1 6  ST.   PAUrS   VISION. 


the  truth  of  religion  with  our  passions  or  our 
scoffs;  to  descend  to  the  level  of  personalities; 
to  relish  the  malicious  pleasure  which  the  hu- 
miliation of  our  adversaries  brings, — is  fruitless 
work,  is  sowing  seed  in  the  sand  ;  it  is  even 
worse,  it  is  to  discredit  and  calumniate  the  cause 
we  would  save. 

But  do  not  think,  I  pray  you,  that  I  coun- 
sel here  a  sort  of  idyllic  peace,  or  an  assumed 
meekness,  which  would  be  but  a  mask.  Ah  ! 
doubtless  we  will  always  have  conflicts,  but  it 
behooves  us  to  know  in  what  spirit  we  are  to 
maintain  them,  and  whether  the  love  of  God,  of 
our  brethren,  and  of  our  enemies  themselves,  be 
strong  enough  in  our  hearts  to  expel  all  personal 
concern. 

And  here  I  will  refer  to  St.  Paul,  to  his 
whole  life,  which  throws  wonderful  light  on 
this  point.  You  know  with  what  power,  what 
ardor,  what  logic,  St.  Paul  defended  the  Chris- 
tian truth.  But  see  also  with  what  energy  he 
knows  how  to  detach  himself  from  these  con- 
troversies, and  to  press  on  the  more  eagerly  to 
the  conquest  of  souls  !  Surely  to  one  trained  in 
a  school  of  rabbis,  theologian  by  nature  and 
education,   logician    to    the   very   marrow   of  his 


ST.   PAUL'S    VISION.  17 


bones,  the  temptation  was  great  to  fall  into  this 
snare.  Do  you  find  him  engaging  in  barren  con- 
troversies, wasting  upon  them  his  marvellous  re- 
sources of  skill  and  genius  ?  I  do  not  know  what 
in  that  case  his  character  would  have  become, 
but  I  ask  myself  if,  after  all  that,  we  would  have 
recognized  his  work  and  his  name.  What  did 
St.  Paul  do  "!  Leaving  Judaism  to  waste  away 
in  the  discussions  of  the  scribes,  he  listened,  and 
heard  the  groanings  of  the  heathen  world;  he 
said  to  himself,  "The  time  has  come;  let  us 
create  a  new  people  for  God,"  and  he,  the  disci- 
ple of  Gamaliel,  the  former  rabbi,  the  Pharisee, 
the  sectary,  he  has  become  this  great,  this  noble 
heart,  capable  of  embracing  in  his  vast  love  the 
entire  heathen  world. 

You  will  say  to  me  perhaps  that  the  cry  of 
distress  which  St.  Paul  heard  does  not  ring  in 
our  midst,  and  that  there  must  be  a  call  before 
there  can  be  a  response.  Ah!  we  know  it  only 
too  well,  this  cry  is  rare.  They  are  material 
sorrows  which  speak  first,  and  speak  loudest. 
But  think  you  it  was  different  in  St.  Paul's  time  } 
Think  you  that  consciences  were  less  dull,  less 
asleep  at  Ephesus  or  Athens  than  they  are  in 
Paris .''     Is  not  a  false,  carnal  security  in  a  cer- 


1 8  ST.  PAUL'S  rrsiOiY. 


tain  sense  the  normal  condition  of  the  most 
wicked  in  every  age  ?  Think  you  that  if  St. 
Paul  had  looked  only  at  the  surface  of  ancient 
Greece,  at  her  frivolous  manners  and  at  her  con- 
tinual festivals,  he  would  have  heard  the  cry 
which  called  him  away  ?  Unquestionably,  no  ! 
It  was  with  the  divination  of  love  that  he  heard 
it  and  understood  it.  He  tore  away  all  delusive 
veils,  he  saw  to  the  bottom  of  things,  and  found 
that  bottom  to  be  sad  and  hopeless. 

Well,  be  not  deceived  about  it;  nothing  is 
changed  here.  Notwithstanding  the  proud  pre- 
tensions of  an  exact  science,  notwithstanding  the 
serenity  that  many  men  affect,  there  is  lurking 
in  every  soul  which  is  not  plunged  into  a  sen- 
sual life,  and  which  has  not,  in  the  language  of 
Scripture,  become  flesh,  a  hidden  sorrow  Avhich 
appeals  for  consolation,  a  moral  trouble  which 
calls  for  peace.  There  are  the  remains,  alas  ! 
often  defiled  and  broken,  but  still  the  remains 
of  that  altar  which  St.  Paul  found  at  Athens, 
and  which  was  dedicated  to  the  unknown  God, 
but  which  seemed  to  be  awaiting  the  holy,  liv- 
ing, and  true  God  ! 

I  have  spoken,  thus  far,  of  the  Church  in  gen- 
eral; but  nothing  is  so  deceptive  as  generalities. 


ST.    PAUL'S    VISION.  19 


I  address  myself  now  to  each  one  of  you,  my 
brethren.  Redeemed  by  Jesus  Christ,  do  you 
hear  the  voices  which  called  St.  Paul  .''  Have 
you  like  him  seen  the  vision  of  a  world  lost, 
and  far  from  God  ? 

Your  visions  !  Do  you  know  what  they  are  .-* 
I  will  tell  you,  for  you  all  have  visions  which 
pursue  and  haunt  you,  even  into  the  watches 
of  the  night. 

That  young  girl  who  hears  me,  what  are  her 
dreams .''  Has  she  ever  seen  pass  before  her 
any  of  the  miseries  of  this  earth  .-'  When  flat- 
tering lips  whisper  to  her,  when  every  wish  is 
gratified,  when  everything  is  done  to  make  her 
life  attractive  and  lovely,  has  she  ever  thought 
of  othet:  young  girls  who  are  growing  up  in 
poverty  and  perhaps  in  shame  .''  Has  she  ever 
said  to  herself  that  the  faith  which  has  sur- 
rounded her  young  life  with  pure  influences  and 
a  sweet  celestial  peace,  was  waating  elsewhere, 
or  cruelly  scoffed  at .''  Has  she  suffered  from 
this  .-*  Has  she  understood  the  duty  and  the 
happiness  of  scattering  over  these  miseries  a 
consolation  which  comes  from  on  high .-'  Has 
she  ever  looked  forward  to  her  life  as  one  to  be 
devoted  to  the  austere  but  noble  path  of  con- 


20  ST.   PAUL'S    vision: 


secration  and  sacrifice  ?  Let  us  turn  from  this 
delusive  picture.  Her  visions  are  the  world's 
enchantments,  its  applause  and  its  enticements. 
She  has  seen  herself  charming  in  her  beautiful 
attire,  she  has  heard  the  murmur  of  admiration 
which  waits  upon  her  steps.  Ah  !  were  this  but 
the  fascination  of  a  day,  who  of  us  would  cast 
the  stone  at  her  }  But  if  this  fascination  com- 
mence again  to-morrow,  if  always  in  the  midst 
of-JJicr  dreams  this  vision  calls  her  and  charms 
her,  if  life  for  her  is  the  pleasure  that  the  world 
gives,  if  it  be  the  world's  intoxications — ah,  well, 
she  can  be  admired  and  feted,  she  can  see  those 
even  whom  God  has  given  her  for  protectors  and 
guides,  and  who   owe   to   her   the   truth,   mingle 

their  flatteries  with  those  of  the  world It 

matters  not,  the  veil  which  deceives  her  must 
be  torn  away.  At  the  bottom  of  her  heart  is 
selfisliness  —  yes,  beneath  that  charming  exte- 
rior, cold  selfishness  in  its  frightful  ugliness.  .  .  . 
What  a  destiny  is  hers  !  What  an  account  to 
render  at  the  last  hour  !  What  an  inevitable 
sentence  upon  this  life  without  God  and  with- 
out sacrifice. 

I   will   notice  here  an  opinion  very  prevalent 
in   the  world,  and  very  easil}'  accepted.     Noth- 


ST.   PAUL'S   VISION.  21 


ing  is  more  frequent  than  the  assertion  that 
devotion  and  charity  are  very  frequently  alHed 
with  dissoluteness,  with  the  impulses  of  passion- 
ate natures.  The  admirable  traits  of  certain  wo- 
men of  the  world  are  readily  cited,  and  with  a 
malicious  pleasure  are  contrasted  with  the  well- 
regulated  selfishness  of  those  who  live  sober 
lives. 

I  admit  that  one  often  sees  examples  of  sud- 
den devotion,  of  unexpected  charity,  of  real  sac- 
rifice^, in  the  bosom  of  a  very  dissipated  and 
even  openly  immoral  life.  I  can  understand  that 
a  tormented  conscience,  a  heart  disturbed  by  a 
frivolous  life,  may  throw  itself  impulsively  into 
charity,  piety,  and  even  into  sacrifice.  Such  per- 
sons need  at  times  a  refuge,  a  shelter,  something 
to  rest  and  calm  them  for  a  moment.  But  what 
is  there  true  and  lasting  in  these  acts  ?  How 
can  they  redeem  the  scandal  of  a  life  of  gid- 
diness to  which  God  is  but  a  stranger }  How 
efface  the  deplorable  effects  of  such  an  exam- 
ple ?  Moreover,  do  you  always  have  confidence 
in  the  sincerity  of  these  acts  ?  Men  jeer  at  the 
absurdity  of  fictitious  piety;  but  is  counterfeit 
coin  found  only  in  religious  circles .''  Has  not 
the  world  its  false  sentimentality,  its  blustering 


ST.   PAUL'S    VISION. 


virtues,  its  apparent  devotion,  in  fine  its  phari- 
saism  ?  Because  a  dissipated  and  frivolous  wo- 
man has  on  some  occasion  done  some  acts  of 
charity,  which  a  Christian  woman  would  con- 
sider the  most  ordinary  of  her  duties,  she  will 
'be  received  with  a  chorus  of  praises  and  her 
charity  will  be  exalted  to  the  very  clouds;  but 
does  this  outburst  of  charity  change  the  fun- 
damental character  of  her  life  ?  Does  it  pre- 
vent the  inspiration  of  that  life's  being  pleas- 
ure; that  is,  to  speak  truly,  selfishness,  in  other 
words  the  death  of  true  love  ?    \ 

I  know  also  that  selfishness  can  be  perfectly 
joined  with  the  utmost  propriety  of  belief  and 
life.  There  are  natures  very  precise,  and  in- 
capable of  devotedness.  Certain  religious  circles 
offer  too  numerous  examples  of  this.  They  have 
their  traditional  virtues,  and  one  of  the  most 
noticeable  is  their  love  of  domestic  life  and  re- 
spect for  its  duties,  and  beside  a  real  aversion 
to  any  glaring  dissipation,  a  certain  conventional 
sedateness.  They  think  well  of  themselves  for 
it,  and  are  content  with  it;  and  because  they 
possess  these  virtues,  because  they  have  a  horror 
of  scandal,  they  do  not  perceive  that  they  arc 
buried    in    their  own  interests,    in    the   pride   of 


ST.   PAUL'S   FIS /on:  23 


position,  in  their  good  fortune,  in  the  love  of 
affluence;  and  that  they  are  managing  to  be 
Christians  without  even  knowing  self-denial  or 
sacrifice.  The  worldling  understands  them  and 
mocks  them;  but  I  will  not  leave  him  that  ma- 
licious pleasure.  I  say  to  him,  "  Do  you  know 
what  causes  this  amazing  blindness  ?  "  It  is 
yourself  Yes,  yourself,  for  if  you  did  not  give 
the  example  of  dissipation  and  scandal,  they 
would  not  make  a  merit  of  the  simple  fact 
that  they  lead  an  honest  and  regular  life.  It 
is  you  who  lower  the  moral  standard;  it  is  you 
who  are  the  cause  of  it,  that  a  woman  tranquilly 
regards  herself  above  reproach  merely  because 
she  has  not  violated  her  obligations  as  wife  and 
mother.  If  it  were  not  for  you,  one  would  look 
higher  for  one's  ideal,  and  instead  of  believing 
one's  self  virtuous  because  not  fallen,  one  would 
perceive  that  above  these  natural  affections  there 
is  a  boundless  world  of  devotion  and  charity. 
Without  you,  this  selfishness  which  we  with  you 
condemn,  would  be  without  excuse.  It  would  fear 
for  itself,  it  would  be  affrighted  at  its  guilty  inac- 
tion.    It  is  you  who  reassure  it. 

Let  us  then  no  longer  credit  the  sophism  that 
a  worldly  life  does  not  extinguish  charity.     It  is 


24  ST.   PAUUS    VISION. 


at  the  bottom  its  mortal  enemy.  It  takes  from 
it  first  all  its  time,  and  then  its  resources;  it 
withers  down  to  the  very  roots  the  power  of 
loving  and  of  sacrificing  self. 

Yes,  if  you  pass  by  sufferings  without  seeing 
them,  if  you  hear  the  cries  of  distress  without 
heeding  them,  it  is  because  the  worldly  life  blinds 
your  eyes,  hardens  your  heart  and  closes  your 
ears;  if  poverty  importune  you,  if  deeds  of 
charity  annoy  you,  it  is  because  pride,  pleasure 
and  vanity  have  insolently  consumed  their  por- 
tion. Now  we  must  not  be  deceived;  if  the 
Gospel  be  true,  this  is  a  question  of  life  and 
salvation.  I  tell  you  that  in  the  course  you  are 
pursuing,  you  will  lose  your  soul;  you  will  lose 
it  in  spite  of  your  orthodox  faith,  in  spite  of 
your  periodic  repentance,  in  spite  of  your  effu- 
sions which  even  amount  to  tears;  for  God  looks 
at  the  heart  and  yours  belongs  to  the  world, 
yours  belongs  to  vanity:  your  treasure  is  far 
from  God  upon  earth,  therefore  your  portion  will 
be  far  from  Him  in  eternity. 

And  you,  my  brethren,  what  are  the  visions 
wdiich  pass  before  your  eyes  .''  When  you  look 
into  the  future,  what  is  it  that  attracts  and  al- 
lures you  }     Do  you  think  of  all  those  good  and 


ST.   PAUVS    VISION.  25 


holy  causes  which  are  waiting  you  perhaps  and 
depend  upon  you  ?  Are  you  concerned  about 
preparing  yourself  for  the  struggle  ?  Do  you 
long  to  become  bold  in  spirit  and  character,  to 
resist  evil,  to  combat  against  all  tyrannies,  be- 
ginning with  those  of  the  flesh  and  of  sin  ?  Do 
you  ever  see  pass  before  you  those  whom  you 
might  aid  with  your  hand  and  your  heart  ?  Do 
you  hear  the  voices  which  cry  out  to  you  as  they 
did  to  St.  Paul,  "  Come  and  help  us  !  "  Ah  ! 
who  says  to  me  that  your  dream  may  not  be  one 
of  glory  ?  Literary  glory  may  be  your  idol. 
Your  vision  is  a  great  name  on  every  tongue, — 
or  perhaps  it  is  wealth  with  its  power  and  its 
credit,  a  high  position  quickly  achieved, — per- 
haps higher  than  all  this,  it  is  science  with  its 
noble  discoveries,  with  its  pure  joys; — are  those 
your  visions  .''  Talents,  wealth,  and  science,  ad- 
mirable weapons  when  devoted  to  God's  service 
for  the  redemption  and  salvation  of  mankind, 
but  which,  separated  from  this  great  end,  are 
only  instruments  of  selfishness,  only  splendid 
idols  which  draw  away  from  God  our  worship 
and  our  love. 

Where  are  the  men  of  this   age  who  see  the 
vision  of  St.  Paul  pass  before  their  eyes  }     Where 


26  ST.   PAUL'S   VISION. 


are  those  whose  hearts  hear  the  groanings  and 
miseries  of  their  generation,  and  who  reaHze 
that  they  must  consecrate  their  life  to  them  ? 
Do  you  know  how  all  the  great  works  began  ? 
Men  appeared  who  had  seen  what  no  man  had 
ever  seen  before.  St.  Paul  saw  the  old  world 
lost,  and  he  brought  to  it  the  Gospel.  The  re- 
formers saw  the  church  enfeebled  and  dying, 
and  re-opened  to  it  the  refreshing  springs  of 
grace  and  of  the  eternal  word  of  God.  Pascal 
saw  the  false  devotion  which  would  ruin  Cathol- 
icism and  he  wrote  against  it  his  immortal  book; 
Vincent  de  Paul  saw  little  orphans  cast  away 
in  the  street,  and  he  established  his  great  work; 
Wilberforce  saw  the  negroes  sold  like  cattle,  and 
he  overturned  slavery.  Before  all  these  a  vision 
passed,  it  followed  them,  it  haunted  them,  it  left 
them  no  more  rest. 

"Visions!"  say  the  world  and  they  mock  at 
it.  You  too  will  meet  the  mockers.  Twenty 
centuries  before  Jesus  Christ,  a  young  shepherd 
of  the  tribe  of  Abraham  told  his  visions  to  his 
brothers.  He  saw  in  the  depth  of  the  future  a 
great  glory  awaiting  him;  but  his  brethren  heard 
him  with  a  smile  of  contempt  and  hatred,  and 
said    of   him    as    he    passed    by  —  "Behold    the 


ST.  PAUL'S  vision:  27 


dreamer  cometh  !  "  Thus,  when  God  marks  with 
His  own  hand  some  soul  predestined  to  a  great 
mission,  when  He  brings  before  his  eyes  the 
vision  which  will  decide  his  destiny,  when  He 
unrolls  before  him  the  future  He  has  assigned 
him,  the  world  repeats  the  mocking  words 
of  Joseph's  brethren,  —  "  Behold  the  dreamer 
cometh." 

And  when  there  came  the  child  of  Nazareth 
who  dared  to  dream  of  the  kingdom  of  God  on 
earth  in  absolute  justice  and  truth,  and  who 
foresaw  His  kingdom  of  love  increasing  through 
the  centuries,  His  own  brethren  said,  "  He  is  a 
madman  ;  "  the  Pharisees  cried  out,  "  He  is 
possessed,  he  is  a  demoniac;"  and  Pilate  the 
sceptic  shrugged  his  shoulders.  That  which 
happened  to  the  Master  awaits  his  followers. 
Ask  it  of  St.  Paul  appearing  before  Festus  and 
hearing  those  words  of  derision:  "Too  much 
learning,  O  Paul,  doth  make  thee  mad."  Dream- 
er !  yes,  and  it  is  the  condemnation  of  this  world 
that  charity  is  to  it  a  dream,  and  the  cross  fool- 
ishness. 

A  dream,  a  folly,  and  yet  it  is  on  these  terms 
that  the  Gospel  will  conquer.  If  Christianity 
dares  not  go  as  far  as  that  to-day,   the  world 


28  ST.   PAUL'S   VISION. 


will  cast  it  aside  like  an  extinguished  torch, 
like  salt  without  savor.  Leave  the  Gospel  in  ths 
hands  of  sages,  a  hundred  times  would  they  have 
lost  it  !  It  is  the  dreamers  who  a  hundred  times 
have  saved  it;  it  is  the  madmen  who  have  dared 
to  lose  their  lives,  who  have  loved  without  cal- 
culation and  unto  sacrifice. 

My  brethren,  when  St.  Paul  had  heard  the  call 
from  God,  the  Scripture  says  simply  that  he  de- 
parted. Let  this  word  be  our  last  lesson.  One 
may  have  contemplated  the  most  sublime  vis^ 
ions,  may  have  felt  his  heart  penetrated  with  the 
most  lively  emotions,  may  have  trembled  with 
admiration  before  the  ideal  Christian,  and  yet 
have  remained  none  the  less  a  poor  self-seeker, 
a  useless  being  whom  God  will  reject  at  the  last 
day.  What  then  must  be  done  .-'  You  must  de- 
part; in  other  words,  you  must  sever  the  ties 
which  bind  you  to  worldliness,  to  sensuality,  to 
pride;  you  must  depart,  that  is,  you  must  go, 
each  to  his  work  and  do  it  steadily  even  to  the 
end.  "Happy  are  ye,"  the  Master  has  said, 
"who  know  these  things  if  ye  do  them."     Amen. 


IL 
fHoSf  S* 


II. 
Hoses. 

"For  he  endured  as  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible." 

Hebrews  ii.  27. 

He  endured.  I  like  this  phrase  in  which  the 
Scripture  sums  up  the  whole  life  of  Moses.  It 
offers  a  striking  contrast  to  all  that  we  see  around 
us  to-day. 

Our  age,  more  than  any  other,  has  stirred 
the  sensitive,  delicate  chords  of  the  human 
heart;  it  has  spoken  to  man,  in  tones  often 
penetrating,  of  his  sorrows  and  his  joys.  Its 
literature  and  its  art,  cultivated  by  great  mas- 
ters, have  sometimes  intoxicated  him  with  vague 
and  deep  reveries.  It  is  not  only  the  sensibility 
of  the  soul  that  it  has  developed;  luxury  in  be- 
coming common  has  destroyed  all  the  simple 
pleasures,  and  created  for  human  nature  artifi- 
cial wants,  which  are  ever  growing.  But  this 
progress,  if  such  it  be,  has  been  dearly  bought. 


3?  MOSES. 

Man's  higher  nature  has  succumbed  beneath  the 
enervating  influences;  the  human  will  staggers  as 
if  overpowered  by  drunkenness.  There  is  noth- 
ing now  more  rare  than  men  with  character, 
who   know   their  own   minds. 

Look  around  us.  Behold  the  humiliating  spec- 
tacle of  great  nations,  blown  about  like  so  much 
dust  by  the  changing  breath  of  passing  revolu- 
tions, cursing  to-day  what  yesterday  they  adored, 
adoring  now  what  to-morrow  they  will  curse. 
See,  even  in  the  bosom  of  the  Church,  forms  re- 
placing convictions,  the  clergy  made  to  march 
like  a  regiment,  and  the  most  elevated  con- 
sciences forced  to  the  most  astonishing  retrac- 
tions. Penetrate  to  the  other  extreme  of  the 
thinking  world,  to  the  camp  of  that  philosophy 
which  denies  God,  and  knows  nothing  real  but 
the  world  and  man.  They  say,  that  in  elevating 
humanity,  they  will  make  men  strong  in  will, 
firm  in  convictions;  but  we  see  the  very  contrary. 
This  century  astounds  us  with  its  recantations; 
discouragement  is  one  of  the  keynotes  which 
sound  from  the  spirits  of  our  day;  and  never  have 
there  been  as  many  suicides  as  since  man  has 
been  taught  that  the  present  fills  out  all  his 
destiny.     The    parties    which    now    divide    men 


MOSES.  33 

have  the  fictitious  power  which  the  passions 
give,  rather  than  the  real  force  which  springs 
firom   character. 

On  this  point  I  call  you  to  witness.  Where 
among  us  are  the  men  of  will  }  Who  among 
us  does  not  tremble  when  he  thinks  of  the 
days,  perhaps  years,  during  which  he  has  drifted 
from  one  belief  to  another  without  any  real 
direction  and  without  aim }  Who  has  not  felt 
with  humiliation  and  bitterness,  how  hard  it 
is  to-day  to  will  and  to  resist }  Many  of  my 
hearers,  perhaps,  have  felt  at  times  in  their  in- 
nermost souls,  as  if  their  principles  were  vacil- 
lating with  their  beliefs,  so  that  their  moral  life 
seemed  on  the  point  of  crumbling  away.  We 
boast  of  being  broad,  and  of  embracing  all  things. 
Is  this  a  sign  of  strength  and  manhood  }  Is  not 
scepticism  recognized  by  this  sign,  that  embrac- 
ing everything  it  excuses  everything.^ 

Feeble  children  of  this  weak  age,  see  before 
us  the  example  of  a  man  of  God  "who  endured," 
a  man  who  was  chosen  to  show  by  his  works 
the  dominant  trait  of  his  character,  to  be  the 
founder  of  the  most  remarkable,  the  most  en- 
during monument  the  world  has  ever  seen,  I 
mean   the  Jewish   people.     Think   of  it  !    history 


34  MOSES. 

offers  nothing  like  it.  There  is  upon  the  face 
of  the  earth  a  strange  race,  insignificant  in  point 
of  numbers,  without  military  genius  or  political 
skill;  but  a  race  chosen  to  outlive  all  others,  in 
spite  of  trials  the  most  extraordinary  and  cruel 
that  any  nation  has  ever  known;  planted  at  first 
upon  a  small  territory  which  was  trodden  by  all 
the  conquerors  in  their  march,  devastated  a  hun- 
dred times  by  strange  tribes  and  internal  strifes, 
she  has  been  trampled  upon  by  all  the  powerful 
monarchies  of  the  east,  the  Assyrians,  the  Medes, 
the  Persians,  and  the  Egyptians,  more  voracious 
than  the  insects  which  devour  the  harvest,  more 
withering  than  the  simoom  which  parches  the 
fields.  Exiled  for  nearly  a  century  beyond  the 
Euphrates,  she  was  restored  for  a  time  to  her  na- 
tive soil  as  if  to  give  to  the  world  the  spectacle 
of  the  most  frightful  ruin;  her  temples  were  de- 
stroyed, her  traditions  were  annihilated,  her  sa- 
cred books  burned,  and  the  ploughshare  driven 
through  her  cities.  At  last  she  was  scattered  in 
exile,  like  a  handful  of  dust  to  the  four  winds. 
For  eighteen  hundred  }'ears  she  has  been  wan- 
dering amid  the  nations,  without  a  place  to  lay 
her  head  or  gather  her  scattered  members.  She 
has  been  exposed  to  all   the  corruptions  which 


MOSES.  35 

could  weaken  her,  to  all  the  idolatries  which 
could  lead  her  astray,  to  all  the  temptations 
and  contempt  which  could  crush  her. 

Yet  to-day,  thirty-five  centuries  after  Moses, 
she  stands  before  the  world  ever  true  to  her  faith 
in  one  living  God,  to  her  ancient  customs,  to 
her  sacred  books  which  she  reads  in  the  lan- 
guage of  her  fathers,  to  the  mysterious  waiting 
for  a  divine  liberator.  Nothing  could  enfeeble 
this  marvellous  vitality.  Babylon  and  Nineveh, 
Alexandria  and  Athens,  Rome  and  Constantino- 
ple, have  fallen.  She  has  survived  all  the  ruins 
of  the  past,  as  she  will  survive  all  those  of  the 
present.  Ever  the  same  in  her  distinctive  fea- 
tures, she  marks  each  of  her  children  with  an 
indelible  type.  Whether  they  be  counsellors  or 
kings — as  once  was  Joseph,  Nehemiah,  or  Daniel, 
— whether  they  charm  the  imagination  by  their 
fine  arts  or  astonish  the  world  by  their  colossal 
wealth,  as  Meyerbeer,  Halévy,  Rachel  or  Roths- 
child;— whether  they  be  as  poor  as  the  beggars 
in  the  ghettos  of  Italy;  —  everywhere,  beneath 
the  fogs  of  Poland  as  under  the  skies  of  Portu- 
gal, in  Paris  as  in  China,  they  are  recognizable 
at  first  sight. 

Well,  ye  legislators  of  the  nineteenth  century, 


S6  MOSES. 

creators  of  constitutions  more  ephemeral  than 
the  leaves  of  the  forests,  contemplate  this  ex- 
traordinary race  which  alone  has  traversed  all 
the  ages;  in  the  endurance  of  the  work,  recog- 
nize that  of  the  workman  :  and  if  you  do  not 
see  therein  the  divine  hand,  confess  that  genius 
has  never   produced   anything  more  amazing. 

If  we  could  ask  Moses  the  secret  of  his 
strength,  he  would  tell  us,  that  it  was  not  a 
fruit  of  nature,  nor  even  an  achievement  of  the 
will.  Timid  and  incompetent  to  such  an  en- 
terprise, he  shrank  from  the  task,  and  accepted 
it  but  with  trembling.  His  strength  did  not  come 
from  "flesh  and  blood,"  but  from  divine  grace, 
and  he  found  it  by  faith.  "  He  endured,"  says 
the  Scripture,  "  as  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible." 
Wonderful  words,  of  which  I  wish  to  show  you 
in  the  career  of  Moses,  the  practical,  the  living 
commentary. 

The  Scriptures  distinguish  in  his  secular  life 
three  consecutive  periods,  of  equal  duration. 
Moses  spent  his  youth  in  Egypt,  in  Pharaoh's 
court;  during  his  ripe  years,  until  his  hair  began 
to  whiten,  he  wandered  alone  in  the  vast  desert, 
gathering  himself  up  for  his  sublime  mission; 
finally,  during  the  last  forty  years  of  his  life,  he 


MOSES.  37 

was  struggling  as  the  leader  of  his  people,  whom 
he  was  conducting  to  the  promised  land.  It  is 
in  these  three  different  situations  that  we  will 
contemplate  him,  realizing  those  simple  but 
grand  words, — "He  endured  as  seeing  Him  who 
is  invisible." 

We  find  ourselves  at  first  in  ancient  Egypt,  at 
the  time  when  that  country  was  the  cradle  of 
the  civilization  of  the  world.  The  arts  and  sci- 
ences had  appeared  there  for  the  first  time  on  our 
globe,  and  from  the  beginning  Egypt  gave  prom- 
ise of  her  great  future.  Even  to-day  the  human 
mind  is  stupefied  before  the  prodigious  monu- 
ments built  by  this  people,  and  we  ask,  by  what 
secrets  unknown  to  our  engineers  they  reared 
those  gigantic  pyramids;  and  in  our  expositions 
I  have  seen  great  artists  studying  with  admira- 
tion the  delicate  handiwork  of  the  jewellers  of 
the  court  of  the  Pharaohs. 

It  was  amid  such  surroundings  that  a  young 
Israelite  grew  up,  called,  by  a  strange  combi- 
nation of  circumstances,  to  the  most  brilliant 
position  which  could  flatter  the  ambition  of  man. 
A  child  of  a  proscribed  race,  he  could  at- 
tain every  honor.  The  world  offered  him  the 
most  intoxicating  cups;  he  had  but  to  bend  him- 


38  MOSES. 

self  to  drink  the  longest  draughts.  If  it  were 
pleasure  he  were  seeking,  where  could  he  find 
it  more  exquisite  and  subtle  than  at  this  court 
where  multitudes  of  slaves  lived  but  to  gratify 
the  caprices  of  their  masters  ?  If  it  were  science 
which  attracted  him,  how  could  he  better  pene- 
trate her  secrets  than  by  gathering  around  him 
all  the  wise  men  and  philosophers,  who  crowded 
the  schools  and  the  mysterious  sanctuaries  of 
this  favored  land  ?  If  it  were  power  which 
tempted  him  and  he  wished  to  command  the 
multitudes,  lead  armies,  hear  his  name  pro- 
claimed with  enthusiasm  by  millions  of  voices, 
and  assist  in  his  own  apotheosis,  the  throne 
was  open  to  him.  All  these  splendors,  these 
dreams  passed  before  Moses;  perhaps  once  his 
heart  may  have  been  troubled  by  these  seductive 
visions,  but  other  thoughts  pursued  him,  another 
love,  another  ambition  possessed  him  and  left 
him  no  rest.  He  thought  only  of  his  people, 
and  of  his  God  !  This  people  is  enslaved,  this 
God  unknown.  Moses  saw  his  brethren  struck 
by  the  rod  of  the  taskmaster,  bowed  beneath  the 
burning  suns  of  Africa,  and  covered  with  igno- 
miny. In  the  palaces  of  the  kings  and  in  the 
I)ub1ic  places,  he  saw  the  monstrous  idols  which 


MOSES.  39 

the  Egyptians  worshipped,  and  like  Saint  Paul 
aftervvards  in  the  streets  of  Athens,  his  believ- 
ing heart  was  filled  with  a  profound  bitterness. 
Ah  !  the  seductions  of  wealth,  of  pleasure,  of 
visible  glory,  may  assail  him.  The  waves  of 
the  sea  make  no  more  impression  upon  a  rock 
than  did  they  upon  him.  He  endures,  because 
he  sees  Him  who  is  invisible.  He  sees  Him, 
and  that  suffices  him;  it  is  his  God  whom  he 
will  serve,  it  is  his  God  to  whom  he  would  de- 
vote himself;  and  as  his  people  bear  with  them 
the  promise  of  a  deliverer  to  come,  the  Messiah 
who  shall  found  the  Kingdom  of  God  on  earth, 
Moses,  the  Scriptures  tell  us,  prefers  the  re- 
proach of  Christ  to  all  the  wealth  of  Egypt,  for 
it  was  the  cause  of  Christ  and  of  the  salvation 
of  the  world  he  was  unconsciously  serving. 

My  young  brethren  who  listen  to  me,  there  is 
in  every  man's  career  a  time  when  he  must  make 
the  solemn  choice  which  is  to  decide  the  course 
of  his  life.  Outward  circumstances  have  changed. 
Nothing  around  us  reminds  us  of  ancient  Egypt 
with  her  idolatries  and  her  seductions;  nothing 
recalls  the  painful  servitude  and  opprobrium  of 
Israel;  but  penetrate  beneath  the  surface  to  the 
bottom    of   things,    and    you    will    find    nothing 


40  MOSES. 

changed.  There  is  ever  the  same  choice  be- 
tween God  and  the  world,  between  the  entice- 
ments of  visible  things  and  devotion  to  the  truth. 
"Live  for  self,"  says  the  tempter,  "use  your  tal- 
ents for  your  own  benefit;  seek  distinction  in  sci- 
ence, aspire  to  success  and  influence;  or  if  these 
seem  beyond  your  reach,  if  they  demand  too  hard 
a  struggle,  stoop  and  sip  the  intoxicating  cup 
of  pleasure,  demand  of  the  present  moment  all 
its  charms."  So  sings  the  enticing  and  treach- 
erous voice,  and  the  multitude  follow  it.  Ah, 
in  your  dark  moments,  when  the  will  wavers 
under  the  bewilderments  of  avarice  and  pride, 
one  thing  alone  can  save  you,  and  that  is,  to 
fix  your  thoughts  on  Him  who  is  invisible  ;  to 
oppose  to  all  that  is  seen,  to  all  that  dazzles, 
to  all  that  charms,  the  righteousness  and  truth 
which  belong  to  the  unseen.  *-^ 

This  is  not  the  side,  I  know,  which  wins  the 
suffrages  of  the  world.  A  genuine  faith,  a  really 
Christian  life  is  a  constant  subject  of  wonderment 
and  mockery  to  the  world;  as  the  Scripture  justly 
calls  it,  "The  reproach  of  Christ," — a  reproach 
which  is  just  as  real  now  as  ever.  Men  will 
laugh  at  your  hopes,  and  ask  to  what  delusion 
you   have   yielded;   your   faith   in   God  and  trust 


MOSES.  4 1 

in  His  word  will  be  treated  as  an  enthusiasm 
or  a  fanaticism.  Let  them  say  and  do  what 
they  will.  Moses  was  a  fool  to  the  men  of  his 
time,  because  he  sacrificed  everything  the  world 
coveted  to  the  sublime  folly  of  the  Kingdom  of 
God  in  an  unknown  future.  Well  for  you,  if  like 
him  you  bear  the  reproach  of  the  holy  cause  ; 
well  for  you,  if  you  endure,  seeing  Him  who  is 
invisible,  and  opposing  to  all  the  jeers  and 
seductions  of  the  passing  world  the  unyielding 
assertion   of  that  which   is   eternal. 

Moses  fled  from  Egypt.  In  a  moment  of  ex- 
citement he  had  resolved  to  liberate  his  people, 
but  his  own  had  rejected  him.  So  with  a  heart 
full  of  sorrow  he  took  refuge  in  the  desert,  as 
afterward  did  Elijah,  and  John  the  Baptist,  and 
all  those  whom  God  would  detach  from  the 
world  that  so  their  victory  over  it  might  be 
the  easier.  See  him  amid  the  gloomy  soli- 
tudes of  Sinai,  wandering  alone  with  the  no* 
mad  tribe  of  Rehuel.  Here,  it  would  seem, 
were  no  more  temptations,  no  more  idols. 
Here  the  memories  of  Egypt  will  not  follow 
him.  Here  the  starry  skies  will  speak  to  him 
of  Jehovah,  and  tell  him  of  His  glory.  Like 
the  patriarchs  of  old,  he  can  build  his  altar  of 


4  2  MOSES. 

stone  and  with  sacrifices  invoke  the  true  and 
living  God,  the  God  of  Abraham,  of  Isaac, 
and  of  Jacob.  He  can  feed  his  soul  with  the 
grand  promises  bequeathed  him  by  his  fore- 
fathers, and  prepare  himself  for  his  sublime 
mission.  All  this  is  true;  but  beware!  iso- 
lation also  has  its  tests  and  terrible  tempta- 
tions. To  believe  alone,  to  hope  alone,  to 
love  alone,  is  sometimes  a  burden  too  heavy 
for  the  human  soul.  And  then,  if  only  this 
solitude  were  of  short  duration  !  But  the  days 
and  years  pass  slowly  in  their  monotonous 
cycle.  Each  evening  the  sun  sets  in  the  west, 
and  the  exiled  believer  says  to  himself,  "To- 
morrow God  will  speak  to  me."  Each  morning 
the  dawn  breaks  in  the  east,  and  he  says, 
"  My  hour  cometh."  But  the  Almighty  re- 
mains silent.  Moses  must  wait,  and  still  wait, 
until  his  soul  is  filled  with  strange  doubts,  and 
perhaps  he  asks  himself,  as  afterward  did  Eli- 
jah, whether  God  has  not  forsaken  his  cause,  or, 
as  Isaiah,  whether  he  has  not  spent  his  strength 
for   naught,  and  in  vain    (Is.   xlix.   4). 

Ah,  my  brethren,  these  long  and  withering 
agonies  !  Who  among  us  has  not  known  them  ? 
Who  of  us  has  not  wondered  often  at  God's  si- 


MOSES.  43 

lence,  and  after  believing  that  the  triumph  of  jus- 
tice was  at  hand,  has  not  groaned  in  spirit  to 
find  the  world  moving  on  its  course,  and  "all 
things  continuing  as  they  were  from  the  be- 
ginning of  the  creation  ?  "  (II  Peter  iii.  4).  In 
vain  have  we  learned  that  God's  thoughts  are 
not  our  thoughts,  and  that  it  is  madness  for 
the  creatures  of  a  day  to  bring  to  their  puny 
measurement  the  designs  of  the  Eternal.  Our 
patience  soon  wearies,  and  faintheartedness  en- 
feebles us. 

But  look  at  Moses;  his  faith  does  not  fail,  he 
endures,  as  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible.  Years 
pass  by  and  his  hair  whitens,  but  he  never 
doubts  the  faithfulness  of  the  Almighty,  and 
the  near  triumph  of  his  cause  which  he  is 
serving  from  afar  in  exile.  So  when  his  two 
sons  were  born  in  Midian,  he  named  one  Ger- 
shon,  and  the  other  Eleazer,  names  which  mean, 
as  the  Scripture  tells  us,  the  one,  *'  I  was  a 
stranger  there,"  and  the  other,  "The  Almighty 
will   be   my   help." 

And  as  Moses  believed,  deliverance  came  when 
human  patience  seemed  exhausted.  Standing 
one  day  before  the  burning  bush,  he  heard  these 
words,  "  Thus  shalt  thou  say  unto  the  children 


44  MOSES. 

of  Israel,  I  Am  hath  sent  me  unto  you."  The 
exile  of  Miclian  was  to  become  the  conqueror 
of  Pharaoh;  and  from  the  summits  of  Horeb 
and  Sinai,  where  he  had  so  often  wandered  a 
fugitive  disowned  by  his  people,  he  was  to  ap- 
pear in  the  majesty  of  his  historic  7'ôle,  in  the 
splendor  of  his  glory,  so  that  the  Israelites, 
amazed,  should  not  be  able  to  endure  the 
brightness,  as  they  exclaim,  "  He  has  been 
with  God." 

And  now  the  hour  of  his  triumph  has  come. 
The  whole  people  are  moved  by  Moses'  voice 
and  promise  to  obey  him.  The  passover  is 
celebrated,  the  Red  sea  is  crossed,  and  over 
against  its  raging  waters  which  cover  the  Egyp- 
tian army,  this  song  of  deliverance  resounds; — 
"The  Lord  is  my  strength  and  song,  and  He  is 
become  my  salvation.  The  Lord  is  a  man  of 
war.  Pharaoh's  chariots  and  his  hosts  hath  He 
cast  into  the  sea;  his  chosen  captains  also  are 
drowned  in  the  Red  sea;  the  depths  have  cov- 
ered them;  they  sank  into  the  bottom  as  a  stone. 

"The  enemy  said,  I  will  pursue,  I  will  over- 
take, I  will  divide  the  spoil:  my  lust  shall  be 
satisfied  upon  them;  I  will  draw  my  sword,  my 
hand  shall  destroy  them.     Thou  didst  blow  with 


MOSES.  4  5 

Thy  wind,  the  sea  covered  them;  they  sank  as 
lead  in  the  mighty  waters  "  (Exod.  xv.). 

While  the  people  were  filled  with  rapture  in 
repeating  these  words,  Moses  might  well  believe 
that  their  deliverance  was  accomplished,  and  that 
on  the  morrow  he  would  enter  the  promised  land. 

To-morrow  !  But  this  is  to  leave  out  of  ac- 
count human  ingratitude.  On  the  morrow,  in 
the  face  of  formidable  difficulties,  Moses  was 
to  learn  for  what  God  had  so  long  been  pre- 
paring him.  Foolish  is  he  who  trusts  in  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  multitude.  Here  are  the 
very  people  who  chafed  under  the  oppression 
of  Egypt,  and  were  overjoyed  at  the  thought 
of  liberty.  Yes,  they  are  the  same;  yet  listen 
now  to  their  murmurings.  "Why  did  you  bring 
us  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt?  There  we  had 
to  eat   and   in  abundance." 

Oh,  ye  people,  ye  are  ever  the  same  !  Here 
I  read  the  history  of  my  own  times.  How 
often  in  our  day  have  we  heard  these  same  en- 
thusiastic cries  !  Men  have  put  away  strange 
gods,  have  torn  asunder  political  and  religious 
fetters,  and  full  of  courage  have  set  out  on  the 
march  to  the  promised  land.  But  they  find 
liberty  is  stern  and  must  be  paid  for  at  its  own 


46  MOSES. 

price.  The  path  is  steep,  the  desert  parched 
and  dry.  Then  begin  their  cowardly  regrets  and 
murmurings,  as  they  look  back  towards  Egypt, 
and  with  curses  for  those  they  had  extolled, 
rush  again  into  bondage,  just  as  they  had 
plunged  into  liberty. 

The  trials  of  Moses  were  renewed  each  day. 
At  each  step  his  work  is  imperilled.  First, 
the  people  were  without  bread,  then  they  had 
no  water,  desertions  increased,  those  whom  he 
trusted  most  were  the  very  ones  to  revolt,  and 
at  critical  moments  he  stands  alone  in  face  of 
an  idolatrous  people.  He  sees  them,  even  at 
the  foot  of  the  mountain  where  the  holy  law 
had  first  been  proclaimed,  make  a  golden  calf 
and  say:  "Israel,  here  is  the  God  who  has  de- 
livered thee."  He  sees  them  participating  in 
the  shameless  festivities  of  neighboring  tribes, 
or  trembling  like  leaves  on  hearing  that  the 
enemy  was  preparing  to  defend  Canaan.  At 
times  his  soul,  weary  with  such  murmuring  and 
cowardice,  bowed  beneath  the  burden.  Who 
will  lift  him  up  and  give  him  new  hope  and  cour- 
age .''  He  who  is  invisible,  and  who  says  to  him, 
*'  Go,  for  I  am  with  thee."  Since  it  is  not  from 
men  he  has  received  his  commission,  he  expects 


MOSES.  47 

from  them  no  reward;  and  their  impatience, 
revolts  and  ingratitude  will  not  shake  his  firmness. 

You  who  are  called  of  God  to  guide  your  fel- 
low-men, leaders  of  the  people,  magistrates, 
heads  of  factories,  pastors  of  souls,  do  you 
comprehend  what  such  an  example  should 
teach  you  ?  And  who  among  us  cannot  prof- 
it by  it  ?  What  position  in  life  is  there,  how- 
ever humble,  in  which  one  does  not  feel  the 
burden  of  some  soul  seeking  guidance,  of  some 
life  which  should  be  saved  ?  Fathers  and  moth- 
ers of  families,  teachers  on  whom  rests  the  noble 
task  of  educating  the  young,  all  you  who  know 
what  it  costs  to  perform  with  fidelity  this  mis- 
sion, so  grand,  yet  so  thankless,  learn  from 
Moses  to  endure,  as  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible. 
Oh  !  that  the  duty  may  seem  grand,  and  the  hum- 
blest ministry  sacred,  when,  instead  of  a  merely 
human  obligation,  it  is  recognized  as  a  divine 
investiture,  a  priesthood  which  comes  from  above. 

It  is  in  this  spirit  we  must  struggle  here  be- 
low, serving  those  to  whom  God  sends  us,  but 
looking  above  them  for  the  approval  which  sus- 
tains us,  and  for  the  rule  of  our  conscience.  Un- 
happy he  who,  called  to  lead  his  fellows,  when 
the    trying    moment    comes,    is    guided    by    the 


48  MOSES. 

whims  and  favor  of  the  fickle  multitude.  Fool- 
ish above  all  are  the  ministers  of  the  Gospel, 
who  strive  to  please  men,  to  accommodate  re- 
vealed truth  to  changing  tastes,  to  personal 
theories,  to  the  prejudices  of  their  day,  and 
then  boast  of  their  success.  As  well  might 
the  pilot,  amid  the  fierce  winds  and  fearful 
blackness  of  a  stormy  night,  search  for  his 
course  on  the  face  of  the  Avaters  tossing  in  fast 
and  furious  billows,  instead  of  looking  to  the 
compass  which  points  him  above  the  thick  fogs 
to  where  the  steadfast  north  star  shines. 

Christians,  it  is  upward  that  you  must  look 
for  light  and  strength.  The  tempests  may  beat 
against  you;  men  may  reject  you;  prejudice,  jeal- 
ousy, and  malice  may  league  against  you;  slander 
may  cast  its  poisoned  dart  at  your  feet,  and  you 
may  hear  the  stinging  hisses  of  bitter  calumny. 
All  this  may  well  cause  you  to  suffer;  for  it  is 
inexpressibly  bitter  to  feel  one's  self  misunder- 
stood, misjudged;  and  for  a  heart  longing  for 
sympathy,  this  isolation  is  full  of  anguish  and 
often  of  terror.  But  you  must  endure,  and  above 
the  gloom  of  the  present  hour,  with  eyes  turned 
heavenward,  you  will  see  Him  who  is  invisible, 
and  whose  love  will  never  fail  you  ! 


MOSES.  49 

Brethren,  let  us  understand  well  our  mission. 
We  must  prove  to  this  realistic  age,  that  the  in- 
visible alone  can  save  the  world.  This  century 
boasts  that  it  believes  only  what  it  can  see  and 
touch.  Proud  of  its  conquests  and  progress,  in- 
toxicated with  the  triumphs  of  science,  it  sees 
reality  only  there;  everything  else  is  a  chimera 
and  vain  dream.  To  know  the  visible  is  its  wis- 
dom, to  deal  with  the  visible  is  its  work,  to 
enjoy  the  visible  is  its  happiness.  Everything 
beside  vanishes  before  its  eyes.  Hear  with  what 
haughty  and  mocking  accents  it  speaks  of  the 
supernatural  doctrines  which,  according  to  it, 
have  long  bewildered  humanity  and  paralyzed 
its  progress  !  If  it  upholds  religion,  it  is  only 
on  the  score  of  utility,  for  the  sake  of  the  weak 
minds  and  the  wretched  classes  who  may  find 
some  consolation  in  it.  It  reduces  the  Church 
to  nothing  but  a  vast  philanthropic  associa- 
tion. Everything  which  transcends  this  level  is 
but  a  barren  fantasy.  In  •  its  view,  humanity 
when  freed  from  this  unwieldy  load  will  march 
proudly  on  to  the  conquest   of  the  future. 

It  must  be  reiterated  emphatically  that  if  there 
yet  remains  upon  our  poor  earth  any  living  prin- 
ciple,   any    consolation,    any    strong    hope, — we 


50  MOSES. 

owe  it  to  those  who,  like  Moses,  have  walked 
by  faith  and  not  by  sight.  Conscience,  duty, 
and  right  are  not  things  visible.  The  positive 
philosophy  so  vaunted  in  this  day  will  never 
evolve  from  its  experience  a  single  one  of  these 
fundamental  and  eternal  principles,  which  alone 
can  enlighten  man.  When  you  can  cast  into  the 
crucible  of  your  laboratory  a  bit  of  mud  and 
extract  gold  from  it,  you  may  be  able  to  extract, 
from  the  crucible  of  the  materialism  of  our  times, 
the  law  of  conscience  and  the  inflexible  au- 
thority of  duty.  Duty,  what  has  it  to  do  here  .'' 
Materialism  does  not  recognize  it.  The  law  of 
materialism  is  force;  here  is  its  first  principle,  its 
perpetual  motor.  No,  the  moral  law,  shining 
with  its  absolute  authority,  is  not  the  result  of 
experience.  As  conscience,  in  affirming  duty, 
transcends  the  visible  world,  so  the  human 
heart  asserts  by  its  profoundest  wants,  the  re- 
ality of  that  which  is  beyond  the  terrestrial 
horizon. 

Confine  humanity  to  this  present  life  alone, 
bounded  by  the  cradle  and  the  grave,  leaving  it 
no  escape  out  into  eternity,  and  this  earth  of 
which  you  would  make  a  paradise  will  soon  be 
converted   into  a  hell.     How   will   you    prevent 


MOSES.  51 

those  who  suffer,  who  consider  themselves  the 
oppressed  of  the  earth,  from  seeking  in  this 
short  space  called  life,  all  the  happiness  this 
earth  can,  as  they  will  say,  and  ought  to  give 
them  ?  How  will  you  impose  silence  upon  these 
men  of  rapacious  passions  who  are  all  the  bolder 
for  believing  themselves  justifiable  ?  Will  you 
resort  to  force  ?  But  then  the  future  will  be  a 
savage  combat  between  the  rich  and  the  poor,  a 
war  of  classes,  relapsing  into  that  struggle  for 
life,  of  which  science  has  made,  as  they  tell  us, 
the  law  which  rules  the  world;  in  other  words  it 
will  be  a  return  to  barbarism.  There  are  signs 
enough  to  put  us  on  our  guard.  Never  did  the 
blood  of  our  people  flow  down  our  streets  as 
in  this  century  of  brotherhood.  In  1870,  sur- 
rounded by  a  material  prosperity,  which  seemed 
likely  to  be  enduring,  in  speaking  of  those  doc- 
trines which  deny  a  future  life,  I  showed  how 
that  nihility  {le  néant')  in  the  world  of  souls 
logically  produced  the  annihilation  of  society. 
One  year  later,  I  repeated  those  words  in  Paris 
then  in  flames.  In  the  baleful  light  of  our 
burning  monuments  one  could  comprehend  that 
it  is  only  faith  in  an  invisible  world  which  will 
save  the  present  world. 


52  MOSES. 

Moses'  task  is  accomplished.  He  endured  to 
the  end;  once  only  did  his  heart  fail  him;  the 
Scriptures  do  not  tell  us  clearly  what  was  his 
fault,  only  that  it  was  the  cause  of  his  not  reach- 
ing- the  promised  land,  upon  which  he  could  only 
gaze  from  afar.  Strange  frankness  of  the  Bible  ! 
Not  one  of  its  heroes  is  represented  as  faultless, 
save  Him  who  was  without  sin,  the  holy  and  just 
One,  who  died  for  the  unjust.  All  others  have 
their  errors  and  their  faults,  and  some  like  David 
have  fallen  even  into  crime.  The  knowledge  is 
needful,  lest  we  render  that  worship  to  man 
which  belongs  to  God  alone,  and  lest  also  we 
place  the  heroes  of  faith  in  a  sphere  above  the 
need  of  that  grace  which  pardons,  and  ourselves 
despair  of  ever   imitating  them. 

However  this  may  be,  if  the  death  of  Moses  on 
Mount  Nebo  is  a  result  of  the  justice  of  God,  I 
see  in  it  also  a  result  of  His  great  mercy,  for  it 
has  pleased  Him  to  teaclv  us  therein  a  sublime 
lesson,  so  that  Moses  dying  yet  speaks  to  us. 
And  what  is  the  lesson  .-*  To  endure,  even  when 
God  refuses  us  our  earthly  hopes — yea,  even  when 
we  must  die  in  sight  of  the  happiness  of  which  we 
have  dreamed. 

The  great  leader  of  Israel  reached  at  last  the 


MOSES.  53 

end  toward  which  he  had  been  moving  for  forty 
years.  Before  him  lay  the  promised  land,  beyond 
the  waters  of  the  Jordan.  He  saw  the  sacred  soil 
upon  which  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob  had  wor- 
shipped the  living  God,  and  where  their  tombs 
awaited  Israel.  It  was  there  the  Kingdom  of 
God  was  to  be  established,  there  Moses  would 
forget  the  many  struggles  and  trials  of  his  long 
ministry,  there  Avould  he  find  at  last  the  realiza- 
tion of  his  fondest  desires,  the  reward  of  all  his 
toils.  To  kiss  that  holy  ground,  to  build  there 
the  tabernacle  of  Jehovah,  was  his  sublime  am- 
bition, his  supreme  joy.  But  God  said  to  him, 
"Get  thee  to  the  top  of  the  mountain;  look  upon 
the  land  of  your  fathers;  but  thou  shall- not  enter 
therein." 

Let  us  dwell  upon  these  last  words,  my 
brethren.  The  promised  land  is  not  here  below. 
Ah  !  you  know  it  well,  ye  aged  who  hear  me, 
and  you  who,  yet  young,  have  encountered  one 
of  those  trials  which  forever  embitter  existence. 
Recall  life's  early  promise  and  compare  with  it 
what  life  has  given  you.  Alas  !  what  more  has 
it  yet  to  give .''  Joys  perhaps  !  God  keep  me 
from  despising  these.  God  keep  me  from  for- 
getting all  the  earthly  blessing,  and  legitimate 


54 


MOSES. 


pleasure  He  has  în  store.  Would  I  might  prom- 
ise you  such,  and  be  only  the  prophet  of  happi- 
ness !  but  we  do  not  fill  the  Christian  pulpit  to 
proclaim  idyls;  and  the  sad  experience  of  all 
ages  teaches  us  that  for  the  souls  which  hunger 
and  thirst  after  truth,  righteousness,  and  love, 
the  great  crises  of  life  are  marked  by  delusions; 
delusions  of  the  understanding,  which  has  be- 
lieved it  has  grasped  the  truth,  and  finds  instead 
but  feeble  flickering  rays;  delusions  of  conscience, 
which  has  believed  in  the  early  victory  of  good, 
in  the  triumph  of  righteousness,  but  is  grieved 
to  find  the  struggle  continue  and  so  many  fail- 
ures to  be  endured;  delusions  of  the  heart,  which 
groans  at  finding  the  shallowness  of  human  af- 
fections and  selfishness  hidden  under  the  fairest 
words,  or  which  after  lavishing  the  deepest  love 
upon  cherished  idols  sees  them  ruthlessly  torn 
awap  by  death;  delusions  with  respect  to  our- 
selves, delusions  with  respect  to  others,  delu- 
sions upon  delusions. 

Ah!  if  the  worldling  alone  encountered  these 
trials,  we  might  understand  how  after  expect- 
ing so  much  from  the  visible  world,  he  should 
receive  from  it  the  nothingness  which  is  the 
end    of    all    things    earthly.     But    must    I    say 


MOSES.  55 

it  ?  to  the  believer  also,  this  life  is  a  school  of 
bitter  disenchantment,  of  continual  despoilment. 
Surely  I  do  not  forget  the  infinite  compensations 
which  God  mingles  with  it,  and  the  certain  and 
triumphant  joy  which  is  the  supreme  recompense 
of  faith.  But  it  is  not  upon  this  earth  that  the 
believer  will  receive  these,  and  St.  Paul  was  the 
first  to  say  that  if  our  Christian  hopes  were  for 
this  life  only,  we  would  be  of  all  men  most  mis- 
erable. Yes,  the  most  miserable,  because  the 
higher  and  holier  the  dream,  the  more  pitiable 
the  delusion,  the  more  cruel  the  awakening. 
What  a  distance  between  that  which  we  had 
hoped  to  see  on  earth,  and  that  which  we  do 
see  every  day  !  what  a  gulf  between  the  ideal 
and  the  real  church  !  what  a  contrast  between 
that  charity  which  St.  Paul  has  pictured,  and 
that  which  we  call  charity  in  this  present  time  ! 
What  painful  contradictions  between  our  words 
and  our  acts  ! 

No,  it  is  not  here  below  that  we  should 
build  our  home.  The  promised  land  is  be- 
yond the  veil.  It  is  for  us  to  press  toward  it 
without  wearying,  to  overcome  evil  with  good, 
to  hope  even  against  hope,  and  to  endure  to 
the  end  as  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible.    Amen. 


III. 

Z\}t  Fiston  of  €ltja|). 


m. 

E\}t  îJtsion  of  (îHltjaïj. 

"  The  Lord  said  to  Elijah;  Go  forth  and  stand  tipon  the  mount 
before  the  Lord.  And  behold  the  Lord  passed  by,  and  a  great  and 
strong  wind  rent  the  mountains,  and  brake  in  pieces  the  rocks  before 
the  Lord;  but  the  Lord  was  not  in  the  wind;  and  after  the  wind  an 
earthquake;  but  the  Lord  was  not  in  the  earthquake. 

'^  Ajid  after  the  earthquake  a  fire;  but  the  Lord  7uas  not  in  the 
fire;  and  after  the  fire  a  still  small  voice. 

"  And  it  was  so  when  Elijah  heard  it,  that  he  tvrapped  his  face  in 
his  mantle,  and  went  out.'''' 

I  Kings  xix.  11-13. 

One  of  the  most  striking  proofs  of  the  sad 
ignorance  which  prevails  in  our  country  upon  the 
subject  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  is  the  heedless- 
ness with  which  judgment  is  passed  upon  the 
God  of  the  Old  Testament.  I  speak  not  only 
of  tliat  disparaging  criticism,  which  from  the  sec- 
ond century  has  assailed  the  most  sublime  scenes 
in  the  Bible,  and  which,  without  even  trying  to 
understand  their  meaning,  finds  in  them  material 


6o  THE    VISION    OF  ELIJAH. 


for  low  mockery;  I  speak,  as  well,  of  a  science 
which  professes  to  be  more  serious.  I  am  as- 
tonished at  the   prejudices   to  which  it  yields. 

Thus,  because  the  Scriptures,  with  an  inflexible 
straightforwardness,  with  a  holy  candor,  recite 
the  weaknesses,  the  artifices  and  the  lapses  of 
Abraham,  of  Jacob,  of  Moses,  of  David,  of  all 
the  heroes  of  the  Jewish  people,  whose  national 
pride  if  it  had  dictated  the  book,  would  have  been 
far  from  painting  them  in  such  colors,  there  is 
no  hesitation  in  tracing  their  faults  and  crimes 
even  to  the  God  whom  they  worshipped,  without 
inquiring  whether  He  approved  these  acts,  with- 
out noticing  that  He  condemned  them,  and  that 
the  offenders  all  passed  through  the  sad  and  se- 
vere school  of  trial  and  repentance. 

So,  again,  because  Jehovah  in  His  providential 
dealings  with  humanity,  uses  for  a  time  the 
people  of  Israel  as  an  instrument,  subjects  them 
to  the  yoke  of  the  theocracy,  and  consequently 
to  a  system  of  laws  which,  like  all  laws,  civil 
and  political,  must  be  enforced  by  penalty,  men 
pretend  to  see  in  Jehovah  only  a  God  of  ven- 
geance, they  attribute  to  Him  the  narrownesses, 
the  hatreds,  the  bad  passions  which  Israel  min- 
gled with  the  accomplishment  of  its  providential 


THE    VISION   OF  ELIJAH.  6 1 


mission;  and  they  forget  that,  even  at  that  time, 
under  the  veil  of  the  theocracy,  His  true  nature, 
the  recognition  of  His  universal  justice,  His  love 
and  His  mercy,  shone  forth  in  a  thousand  places 
in  the  Old  Testament, — that  there  breathes  in  it 
sometimes  a  benignity,  a  tenderness  wholly  evan- 
gelical, and  that  in  listening  to  many  passages 
of  the  prophets,  one  can  imagine  himself  already 
at  the  feet  of  Jesus  Christ.  What!  because  this 
God  of  Israel,  revealing  Himself  in  His  Son,  has 
shed  upon  us  His  light  in  its  fulness,  shall  we 
despise  the  divine  clearness  with  which  He  il- 
lumined the  former  covenant  ?  Shall  the  light  of 
the  sun  at  noonday  make  us  forget  the  splendors 
of  the  sunrise  ?  No,  my  brethren;  under  the 
shadows  with  which  He  was  yet  surrounding 
Himself,  we  worship  the  God  of  Abraham,  of 
Moses,  of  Elijah,  and  of  David,  because  for  us 
He  is  and  will  ever  be,  the  God  of  Jesus 
Christ. 

This  thought  was  suggested  to  me  by  the 
narrative  from  which  I  have  chosen  my  text, 
and  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  in  meditating 
upon  it  and  in  comprehending  its  true  sense, 
you  will  see  here,  as  I  do,  a  sublime  presenti- 
ment of  that   final  revelation  of  the  gospel  by 


62  THE    VISION    OF  ELIJAH. 


which  God  makes  Himself  known  to  us  just 
as  He  is. 

This  narrative  is  taken  from  the  history  of 
EHjah.  Elijah  is  the  true  type  of  the  heroes 
of  the  theocracy.  In  a  time  of  degradation,  of 
universal  idolatry,  he  was  possessed  with  the 
thought  of  the  glory  of  God.  This  passion  con- 
sumes him,  he  knows  no  other.  He  would  re- 
establish the  reign  of  Jehovah;  and  in  this 
mission  nothing  stops  him,  no  tie  of  flesh  or 
blood.  Like  John  the  Baptist,  who  nine  cen- 
turies later  will  become  the  heir  to  his  name 
and  his  work,  he  grows  up  in  the  desert.  He 
leaves  it  to  appear  in  the  palace  of  Ahab,  to 
proclaim  there  the  divine  threatenings,  and  his 
voice  then  resounds  like  thunder;  the  judg- 
ments of  God  accompany  it,  and  such  is  his 
power,  that  the  whole  people  hang  upon  his 
word;  he  challenges  the  priests  of  Baal,  exposes 
their  deceit  and  puts  them  to  death  without  pity. 
Then  he  can  believe  that  the  reign  of  the  Lord 
has  come,  for  the  people  proclaim  Him,  and 
for  one  whole  day  the  echoes  of  Carmcl  re- 
verberate with  the  cry  of  the  multitude,  "Jeho- 
vah is  God,  Jehovah  is  God." 

But,  O  grief!   after  the  enthusiasm  of  a  day, 


THE    VISION    OF   ELIJAH.  63 


the  course  of  the  world  is  resumed.  Àhab  is  still 
Ahab,  Jezebel  is  still  Jezebel,  and  the  crowd, 
for  a  moment  borne  along  by  the  fervor  of  the 
prophet,  returns  with  insatiable  zeal  to  the  de- 
basement of  a  bloody  and  voluptuous  worship. 
Then  Elijah,  like  all  ardent  souls,  passes  from 
one  extreme  to  the  other;  discouragement  seizes 
him;  his  faith  is  obscured;  God  forsakes  him,  the 
ways  of  the  Almighty  are  incomprehensible  to 
him;  he  charges  God  with  forgetting  His  cause. 
How  easy  for  Him  to  interpose,  to  strike  with 
thunder  those  who  scorn  Him,  and  thus  to  com- 
plete the  work  of  destruction  begun  at  Carmel  ! 
But  no  !  the  heavens  remain  closed,  God  keeps 
silent,  Jezebel  is  still  in  power  and  the  life  of 
the  prophet  is  threatened.  Elijah  in  despair  flies; 
he  is  weary  of  life;  he  hastens  to  bury  himself 
in  the  desert.  He  travels  toward  the  south, 
far  from  that  land  of  Judea  whefe  he  has 
fought  in  vain,  far  from  that  ungrateful  and 
frivolous  people;  he  journeys  even  to  Horeb;  he 
needs  that  great  desert,  those  barren  and  deso- 
late heights,  that  sad  and  wild  nature  which  re- 
sponds to  the  condition  of  his  soul.  There  it  is 
that  he  wishes  to  die.  And  when  the  voice  of 
God,  which  follows  him  even  to  his  retreat,  calls 


64  THE    VISION   OF  ELIJAH. 


out  to  him,  "  What  doest  thou  here,  Elijah  ?  " 
he  answers  Him  with  a  bitter  complaint,  and 
he  reproaches  Him  for  having  abandoned  His 
cause,  and,  after  calling  him  to  the  most  terrible 
of  struggles,  for  having  left  him  to  fight  alone. 

My  brethren,  let  us  not  judge  the  prophet. 
Even  in  his  despair  I  recognize  the  zeal  which 
burns  within  him;  his  temptation  is  that  of  great 
souls, — souls  whom  the  thirst  for  righteousness 
and  holiness  consumes.  Would  to  God  that  even 
at  the  price  of  errors  such  as  his,  we  might  see 
to-day  believers  who  resemble  him  ! 

Indifferent  souls  will  understand  nothing  of 
this  revolt  of  Elijah;  as  they  are  possessed  with 
no  high  ideal,  as  the  coming  of  God's  kingdom 
is  the  least  of  their  cares,  as  the  cause  of  right- 
eousness and  truth  never  enkindles  them,  they 
fall  in  easily  with  the  course  of  the  world,  and 
they  have  taken  the  position  of  being  unable 
to  change  it.  Wisdom  for  them  consists  in  tak- 
ing men  as  they  are,  and  moderation  seems  to 
them  the  best  and  most  prudent  of  all  philos- 
ophies. Why  want  to  reform  the  world,  why 
vvant  to  excite  against  one's  self  prejudices  and 
passions,  when  one  can  live  happily  and  quietly .-' 
They  treat  as  fanaticism  everything  which  goes 


THE    VISION    OF  ELIJAH.  65 


beyond  them,  and  the  Elijahs  of  whatever  period 
seem  to  them  as  madmen.  But  if  a  man  ar- 
dently desires  the  triumph  of  the  truth,  if  he 
suffers  in  seeing  the  name  of  God  disowned,  His 
glory  degraded,  and  righteousness  trampled  un- 
der foot,  he  will  recognize  in  this  story  his  own 
history,  and  in  the  groanings  of  the  prophet 
the  expression  of  his  own  grief 

Thus,  as  I  picture  it  to  myself,  the  Christians 
of  the  first  centuries  must  have  been  tempted 
when,  after  having  expected  with  the  whole  prim- 
itive church,  the  immediate  return  of  Jesus  Christ 
and  His  glorious  appearing,  they  saw  the  truth 
combated  and  often  rejected,  compelled  slowly 
to  win  souls  one  by  one,  to  plead  its  cause 
before  Caesars;  —  when  they  saw  the  church 
growing  with  difficulty  and  subjected  to  the 
conditions  of  all  human  institutions,  having  like 
them,  its  weaknesses,  its  miseries,  its  failures, 
and  counting,  in  time  of  persecution,  its  apos- 
tates by  thousands. 

So,  moreover,  must  our  fathers  have  been 
tempted,  after  the  days  of  Reformation,  when, 
after  having  fondly  hoped  for  their  country  the 
free  and  earnest  religion  of  the  conscience  deliv- 
ered from  the  yoke  of  men,  and  that  grand  future 


66  THE    VISION    OF  ELIJAH. 


which  the  Gospel  alone  could  have  given  it,  they 
had  to  see  their  temples  razed  to  the  ground, 
their  firesides  destroyed,  their  Bibles  torn  to 
pieces,  and  themselves  like  malefactors  follow- 
ing the  road  to  exile.  Who  will  tell  us  of 
the  anxious  looks  those  noble  outlaws  had  to 
turn  toward  that  God  who  seemed  to  desert 
His  cause  ?  Who  will  tell  us  of  their  mourn- 
ful prayers,  their  repinings,  their  groanings  full 
of  bitterness  ? 

And  so  even  are  they  tempted  who — having 
hoped  to  witness  with  their  own  eyes  the  tri- 
umph of  the  gospel,  the  extension  of  the  church, 
the  union  of  Christians  embracing  each  other 
at  the  foot  of  the  Master's  cross,  in  short  one 
of  those  great  religious  movements  which  save 
souls  and  the  world — are  forced  to  see  what  we 
see;  that  is  to  say,  in  the  face  of  a  society  in- 
different and  ready  to  scoff,  the  church  divided, 
feeble,  without  high  impulse,  without  enthusi- 
asm, and  the  progress  of  the  kingdom  of  God 
depending  apparently  upon  chances  wholly  ex- 
ternal and  causes  wholly  human.  —  Now  be- 
fore such  a  spectacle,  faith  wavers,  hearts  arc 
troubled,  one  begins  to  doubt  like  Elijah  that 
God  is  intervening  and  acting;   like  Elijah  one 


THE    VISION    OF   ELIJAH.  67 


forgets  the  magnificent  traces  of  His  interven- 
tion in  the  past,  and  if  to  these  general  causes 
of  trouble  is  added  some  especial  trial, — a  long 
injustice  under  which  one  groans,  a  cruel  inex- 
plicable blow, — it  is  enough  to  extort  from  the 
strongest  a  cry  of  anguish  and  of  murmuring, 
to  drive  them  perhaps  to  despair. 

Ye  Christians,  who  know  these  temptations, 
you  know  also  how  terrible  they  are.  Well,  let 
me  tell  you  nevertheless  that  here  are  noble 
griefs  !  Ah  !  what  would  be  worse  than  this, 
would  be  for  you  to  take  your  part  with  the 
passing  world,  to  find  yourselves  at  ease  in  a 
world  where  God  is  treated  as  a  stranger,  to 
see  with  unfeeling  heart  the  injustice,  the  suffer- 
ings, the  shames  which  greet  us  at  every  step, 
to  accept  this  life  and  the  world  such  as  sin  has 
made  them.  The  gospel  has  said,  "Blessed  are 
they  who  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness." 
Yes,  to  suffer  like  Elijah,  like  John  the  Baptist, 
like  Paul,  is  after  all  the  best  and  greatest  thing 
on  earth,  for  it  is  on  this  condition  alone  that 
one  can  find  Divine  consolation.  Let  us  sec 
how  God  teaches  Elijah,  and  let  us  seek  here 
our  strength. 

And  God  said  to  Elijah,  "Go  forth  and  stand 


68  THE    VISION    OF  ELIJAH. 


upon  the  mount  before  the  Lord."  The  prophet 
obeys.  Standing  on  the  summit  of  Horeb  where 
his  view  would  embrace  the  desert  and  the  sky, 
he  waited,  for  the  Lord  was  about  to  appear  to 
him  and  speak  to  him. 

He  looks,  and  behold  clouds  of  dust  arise  on 
the  horizon;  it  is  the  wind  of  the  desert  which 
rises  rapidly,  impetuously,  as  it  does  in  the  East. 
Soon  the  sky  is  covered  with  a  sombre  and  livid 
veil.  To  the  long  and  gloomy  gusts  follow  the 
bursts  of  a  fearful  tempest;  the  trees  sway  and 
are  uprooted,  the  very  rocks  shake,  the  sand  of 
the  desert  rolls  in  moving  billows,  like  the  waves 
of  an  angry  sea.  The  storm  passes,  but  the  Lord 
was  not  in  the  wind. 

He  looks  again,  and  behold  to  his  dazed  eyes 
the  horizon  seems  to  move,  the  rocks  tremble, 
the  earth  opens,  the  mountain,  as  if  seized  with 
dizziness,  sways  upon  its  foundations;  it  is  an 
earthquake  which  opens  abysses,  which  seem  as 
if  they  would  engulf  everything;  for  some  mo- 
ments nature  is  the  prey  of  this  terrible  convul- 
sion; but  the  Lord  was  not  in  this  earthquake. 

Elijah  looks  again,  and  behold  a  strange 
light  illumines  the  expanse,  fire  from  heaven 
inflames  the   earth.     The   reddish   flame   of  the 


THE    VISION   OF  ELIJAH.  69 


burning,  shining  in  the  middle  of  the  night  of 
the  tempest,  spreads  rapidly  as  lightning,  it  runs, 
it  winds  around  the  sides  of  the  mountain,  it 
kindles  the  dry  herbs,  the  trees  uprooted  by  the 
wind.  It  is  soon  a  deluge  of  fire  which  over- 
flows everything,  and  whose  glowing  waves  whirl 
upward  toward  the  black  vault  of  the  sky.  Eli- 
jah, terrified,  recoils;  but  the  Lord  was  not  in 
the  fire. 

The  storm,  the  earthquake,  the  fire — was  it  not 
this  that  Elijah  had  asked,  when  groaning  and 
discouraged,  he  reproached  the  Lord  for  His  in- 
action and  His  incomprehensible  silence .''  Did 
he  not  say  to  Him  in  some  sort,  "  Awake  Thou  ! 
Take  Thy  cause  in  hand,  sweep  away  Thine  ene- 
mies like  the  sand  of  the  desert,  crush  them  in 
Thy  fury,  consume  them  like  chaff.''"  Well,  this 
irresistible  and  formidable  power,  he  has  seen 
it  in  the  hurricane  which  carried  everything  in 
its  rapid  breath,  in  the  earth  shaken  to  its 
depths,  and  in  the  fire  devouring  all  that  the 
tempest  had  left  in  its  path  !  He  has  seen  it, 
he  has  trembled,  and  the  Lord  was  not  there. 
Where  then  is  He,  and  by  what  sign  can  Elijah 
discern  His  presence  .-*  The  prophet  is  about  to 
know. 


70  THE    VISION    OF   ELIJAH. 


The  terrible  vision  of  the  storm  has  passed. 
The  blast  of  the  tempest  has  abated.  Calm 
has  succeeded  the  convulsions  of  the  hurricane; 
to  the  frightful  flashes  of  lightning  follows  the 
pure  fresh  clearness  of  the  day.  The  sky  has  re- 
appeared, the  sky  of  the  East  with  its  transpar- 
ent deep  blue;  nature  seems  to  be  born  again  more 
beautiful,  more  serene,  and  from  the  depths  of  the 
valleys  there  rises  even  to  the  summit  of  Horcb, 
to  the  grotto  where  Elijah  has  taken  refuge,  a 
soft,  low  sound,  the  harmonious  voice  of  nature 
expanding  anew  under  the  breath  of  God.  Eli- 
jah goes  forth  from  his  retreat.  An  inexpres- 
sible emotion  seizes  his  soul  which  terror  had 
agitated,  an  ineffable  feeling  of  peace,  of  fresh- 
ness and  of  joy  penetrates  it.  Neither  the  noise 
of  the  tempest,  nor  the  convulsions  of  nature 
had  so  stirred  it.  In  this  soft  low  sound  he  rec- 
ognized the  presence  of  God,  and  covering  his 
head  with  his  mantle,  he  bows  himself  and 
worships. 

And  now,  my  brethren,  am  I  wrong  in  saying 
it .''  Is  there  not  in  this  scene  from  the  Old 
Testament  a  sublime  presentiment  of  the  su- 
preme revelation  which  God  should  give  to  hu- 
manity through   the   gospel?     This    God   whose 


THE    VISION   OF   ELIJAH.  71 


presence  Elijah  knew  not  how  to  discern  save 
in  His  acts  of  justice  and  wrath — this  God  full 
of  vengeance,  since  He  smites  so  often,  chas- 
tises so  much,  He  has  not  spoken  His  last 
word.  He  makes  of  the  winds  His  angels 
and  of  the  flames  of  fire  His  ministers,  but 
nevertheless  He  is  not  in  the  overthrowing 
tempest  nor  in  the  consuming  fire;  and,  if  the 
law  of  Sinai,  if  the  theocracy  of  Israel,  have  re- 
vealed His  holiness  and  justice  to  the  world, 
some  day  He  must  make  known  to  it  that  His 
name  is  love. 

Elijah  will  not  yet  comprehend  the  deep  and 
true  meaning  of  this  vision  which  transcends 
him,  and  in  that  which  follows  the  Almighty 
reveals  Himself  to  him  but  in  part.  He  tells 
him  to  return  on  his  way  and  join  Hazael,  Jehu, 
and  Elisha,  all  three  of  whom  will  be  the  instru- 
ments of  His  vengeance,  who  will  soon  chastise 
Ahab,  Jezebel,  and  the  idolatrous  people.  Ha- 
zael, Jehu,  and  Elisha,  that  is  the  wind,  the 
earthquake  and  the  fire  which  the  Almighty  will 
send  when  He  thinks  best:  so  God  will  interpose, 
the  day  of  His  anger  will  come  at  last;  but  Eli- 
jah must  know  that  vengeance  will  not  be  His 
last  word.     In  these  terrible  interventions  God 


72  THE    VISION   OF   ELIJAH. 


will  not  reveal  Himself  wholly,  and  His  true  reve- 
lation is  yet  to  come. 

My  brethren,  we  have  contemplated  this  rev- 
elation. What  is  the  good  news  represented 
by  the  soft  and  quiet  sound  which  the  prophet 
heard  }  Listen,  and  in  the  night,  the  memory 
of  which  we  celebrate  this  evening,^  hear  the 
holy  songs  of  the  angels  from  the  skies,  descend- 
ing upon  the  plains  of  Bethlehem:  "Glory  to 
God  in  the  highest,  peace  on  earth,  good-will 
to  men."  Draw  nigh  to  this  cradle  where  the 
majesty  of  God  is  laid  aside,  contemplate  this 
little  babe  born  among  the  poorest;^no  splendor 
surrounds  Him;  nothing  averts  you  from  Him, 
nothing  terrifies  you;  all  is  simple  and  without 
show;  and  yet  it  is  there  that  the  God  of  earth 
and  heaven  truly  reveals  Himself,  and  from  this 
humble  cradle  of  Bethlehem  will  go  forth  the 
salvation  of  the  world.  He  will  grow.  He  whose 
birth  will  pass  almost  unnoticed;  He  will  shoot 
up  like  a  feeble  stem,  according  to  the  word 
of  the  prophet;  He  will  have  no  outward  éclat, 
nothing  which  would  recall  the  terrible  maj- 
esty of  that  God  of  vengeance  whom  Elijah  in- 
voked: instead  of  a  sceptre  of  iron  of  the  Mcs- 

'  Preached  Christmas  Eve,  1865. 


THE    VISION  OF  ELIJAH.  73 


siah  dreamed  of  by  the  Jews,  He  will  carry  a  reed; 
instead  of  a  conqueror's  diadem,  a  crown  of 
thorns;  His  voice  will  not  menace  like  the  thun- 
der and  the  tempest,  it  will  bring  pardon,  peace, 
and  salvation. 

"Come  unto  Me,  for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  of 
heart."  He  will  have  only  prayers  for  His  en- 
emies, blessings  for  his  executioners.  He  will 
be  despised,  covered  with  insults,  overwhelmed 
with  ignominy,  nailed  upon  the  accursed  tree, 
— but  in  this  extreme  humiliation  He  will  reveal 
to  the  world  an  inconceivable  greatness:  that 
of  victorious  love,  that  of  charity  which  stoops 
even  to  sacrifice.  A  majesty  which  nothing  can 
approach  will  surround  His  bleeding  head,  and 
in  this  victim  disarmed  humanity  will  recognize 
its  King.  That  which  neither  force,  terror,  nor 
violence  could  do.  His  cross  will  accomplish, 
— consciences  will  be  moved,  hearts  will  be 
touched,  the  church  will  be  founded,  a  new  hu- 
manity will  be  born,  and  the  reign  of  God  on 
earth  will  begin.  The  church  will  increase,  hav- 
ing for  her  device,  "faith,  love,  and  hope;"  she 
will  take  possession  of  the  nations;  after  eighteen 
centuries  she  will  preach  the  glad  tidings  of  sal- 
vation  in   all   parts  of  the  world,  awaiting   the 


74  Tfil'^    VISION    OF   ELIJAH. 


day  when  upon  the  pacified  earth  there  will  be 
but  one  Shepherd  and  one  flock.  O  my  breth- 
ren, in  presence  of  this  marvellous  triumph  of 
redeeming  love,  let  us  bow  our  heads,  let  us 
worship  as  Elijah  did,  for  truly  the  Almighty 
is  here. 

Thus  we  have  seen  the  true  sense  of  this  sub- 
lime vision,  we  know  what  means  the  soft  low 
sound  which  filled  the  soul  of  Elijah  with  a  holy 
trembling,  we  know  that  God  is  love. 

And  now  it  Vemains  for  us  to  draw  from  this 
scene  some  of  the  instructions  that  God  has 
hidden   therein. 

First  of  all,  let  us  learn  not  to  judge  the 
Almighty.  Often,  as  we  have  said,  the  delays 
of  God  astonish  us,  His  silence  appears  to  us  in- 
explicable. "Why  does  He  not  interpose.-'"  we 
ask,  Avhy  does  He  leave  His  cause  questioned, 
assailed  and  perhaps  vanquished .''  Why  does 
He  permit  evil  to  triumph  and  to  spread  .''  And 
without  our  lips  avowing  it,  our  irritated  impa- 
tient hearts  call  ibr  His  intervention,  His  judg- 
ment and  perhaps  His  anger.  His  anger,  ah  ! 
my  brethren,  Elijah  in  provoking  it  did  not  know 
what  we  know,  for  he  had  not  seen  the  Holy  One 
and  the  Just  expire  on  the  cross:  he  had  not  seen 


THE    VISION   OF   ELIJAH.  75 


mercy  stronger  than  hate  conquering  hearts  and 
founding  the  kingdom  of  God  on  earth.  His 
anger  !  And  what  could  we  answer  if  it  should 
strike  us  first  ?  Do  we  merit  it  less  than  those 
who  provoke  us  ?  When  we  take  into  consid- 
eration the  favors  we  have  received,  the  light 
which  has  illumined  us,  the  patience  which  has 
upheld  us,  the  deliverance  of  which  we  have 
been  the  objects,  when  to  this  wonderful  history 
of  divine  mercies,  we  oppose  that  of  our  resist- 
ance, our  ingratitude,  our  cowardice,  our  secret 
faults,  and  perhaps  our  crimes,  can  we,  my 
brethren,  dare  we  again  invoke  the  God  of  ven- 
geance ?  Let  us  rejoice  rather  that  the  hour 
of  justice  delays  to  strike,  let  us  rejoice  that  for 
others  as  for  ourselves,  there  remains  time  to 
repent,  time  for  salvation.  Let  us  remember 
that  the  anger  of  man  does  not  accomplish  the 
justice  of  God,  and  to  overcome  evil,  let  us 
imitate  that  divine  Providence,  which,  while  able 
to  subdue  by  force,  aims  above  all  to  triumph 
by  love. 

Beside  this  admonition,  I  find  in  my  text  a 
thought  full  of  consolation.  Who  among  us  in 
the  presence  of  the  history  of  humanity  and  of 
his  own  history  has  not  sometimes  felt  the  chill 


76  THE    VISION    OF   ELIJAH. 


of  doubt  possess  him,  because  he  has  sought  in 
vain  the  interposition  of  God  ?  Who  among 
us  has  not  wished  at  such  a  time  to  ask 
of  God  His  secret,  yes,  the  secret  of  those 
strange  mysterious  voices  which  confound  him  ? 
Ah  well  !  this  secret  God  reveals  to  us  in  the 
vision  of  Elijah,  this  secret  is  love.  Love  is  the 
final  and  supreme  explanation  of  all  that  God 
has  done  in  the  history  of  humanity  and  in  our 
own  history,  love  and  not  anger,  love  and  not 
vengeance,  however  our  heart  at  times  may  have 
thought    it. 

Nevertheless,  my  brethren,  let  us  ever  re- 
member that  if  it  is  only  in  love  that  God 
reveals  Himself  wholly,  it  is  He  who  sends  the 
wind,  the  earthquake,  and  the  devouring  fire. 
Let  us  beware,  lest,  because  we  believe  the 
gospel,  we  disarm  the  hand  of  the  Almighty 
and  make  for  ourselves  of  Him  an  ideal,  weak, 
effeminate,  altogether  like  the  spirit  of  this  gen- 
eration. No,  for  us  also  the  Almighty  reigns; 
for  us  He  dwells  in  the  heart  of  history,  and 
ordains  and  controls  the  disturbances  which  are 
agitating  the  world.  And  are  there  not  cer- 
tain pages  of  that  history  where  the  intervention 
of  His  justice  becomes  visible  in  some  sort,  and 


THE    VISION   OF  ELIJAH.  77 


where,  like  Belshazzar  at  his  feast  in  Babylon, 
we  discern  a  mysterious  hand  which  writes  the 
death  sentence  of  powerful  iniquities  ?  When 
Nineveh  or  Babylon  crumble,  when  those  gigantic 
empires  disappear,  do  we  not  see  there  the  in- 
tervention of  God  ?  When  Jerusalem,  murderer 
of  Jesus  Christ,  is  trampled  under  the  feet  of 
the  Gentiles,  when  the  plough  passes  over  the 
site  of  its  superb  temple,  and  fugitive  Israel  is 
dispersed  in  the  world,  there  to  astonish  history 
by  its  unique,  extraordinary  destiny,  do  we  not 
see  here  the  fulfilment  of  those  fearful  words: 
"  His   blood  be  on  us  and  on  our  children  ?  " 

When  Rome  itself,  whose  downfall  St.  John, 
the  seer  of  the  Apocalypse,  had  prophesied 
four  centuries  before,  is  invaded  by  the  Bar- 
barians, and  its  destroyers  Attila  or  Genseric, 
fulfilling  a  mysterious  destiny,  call  themselves 
the  scourge  of  God,  and  in  embarking  say  to 
their  pilot,  "  Loose  the  sail  there  where  divine 
vengeance  blows,"  can  we  ignore  therein  the  ac- 
tion of  a  revenging  Providence,  and  if  we  forget 
it,  will  not  the  smoking  ruins  which  everywhere 
mark  their  passage   proclaim  it  in  our  stead  ? 

When,  finally,  in  modern  history  we  see  all 
the  powers  which  have  made  war  upon  Chris- 


78  THE    VISION    OF   ELIJAH. 


tianity  and  which  have  rejected  it,  entering 
fatally  the  road  to  decay  and  death,  while  civ- 
ilization, progress,  respect  of  conscience,  true 
liberty  exist  only  under  the  shadow  of  the  cross 
and  where  the  gospel  has  entered  into  the  life 
of  the  people; — when  everything  shows,  even 
as  it  was  nobly  confessed  the  other  day  in  a 
proclamation  by  the  president  of  a  great  re- 
public where  one  does  not  blush  to  invoke  the 
name  of  the  living  God,^  —  when  everything 
shows  us  that  righteousness  elevates  nations, 
and  that  sin  is  the  ruin  of  peoples,  we  must 
be  blind  to  deny  that  God  acts  even  in  the 
darkest  days  of  history,  and  that  it  is  He  who 
unchains,  as  in  the  vision  of  Elijah,  the  tempest 
and  the  devouring  fire. 

Yes,  God  reigns;  this  truth  must  be  acknowl- 
edged, must  be  proclaimed  aloud  before  a  civ- 
ilization which  is  intoxicated  by  its  material 
progress  and  professes  such  scornful  indifference, 
such  insulting  contempt  for  the  realities  of  the 
invisible  world.  It  must  be  reminded  that  it 
cannot  with  impunity  do  without  Him,  and  that, 
if  His  place  remains  vacant,  there  are  powers  of 
evil  which  will  fill  it.     It  must  be  reminded  that 

>  Allusion  to  the  message  of  President  Jolmson. 


THE    VISION    OF   ELIJAH.  79 


His  justice  slumbers  not,  although  it  seems  to, 
and  that  in  order  to  chastise  nations  who  forget 
Him,  He  has  but  to  abandon  them  a  single  day 
to  the  evil  passions  which  are  fermenting  in  their 
depths,  to  that  rising  tide  of  materialism,  to 
which  He  alone  can  say,  "  Thou  shalt  go  no 
farther."  It  must  be  reminded  that  the  corrup- 
tion of  manners  flaunted  by  the  higher  classes, 
and  displaying  itself  in  an  insolent  luxury,  kin- 
dles in  the  lower  classes  hatreds  and  savage 
passions  whose  explosion  would  produce  a  moral 
tempest  in  comparison  with  which,  what  Elijah 
witnessed  on  Horeb  would  be  but  child's  play. 
It  must  be  reminded  that  God  is  holy,  that  He 
is  not  to  be  trifled  witl^^  and  that,  for  individ- 
uals as  for  peoples,  His  judgment  is  the  most 
certain  of  realities. 

Yes,  God  reigns  in  history;  but  if  we  believe 
in  His  sovereign  action,  how  many  times  also 
in  history  do  we  lose  trace  of  His  steps  !  How 
often  the  spectacle  that  this  world  presents 
is  to  us  but  a  labyrinth  where  we  lose  our- 
selves !  And,  in  His  judgments  even,  how 
many  things  seem  to  us  inexplicable  !  Alas  ! 
in  the  tempests  which  the  breath  of  His  justice 
raises,  I  see  the  innocent  struck  down  with  the 


8o  THE    VISION  OF  ELIJAH. 


guilty,  I  see  children  expiating  the  crimes  of 
their  fathers,  I  see  the  consequences  of  an  in- 
iquity visited  upon  several  generations;  I  see  a 
mysterious  fatality  weighing  upon  individuals  or 
upon  peoples,  I  see  fortunate  strokes  of  strength 
and  skill  succeed,  while  good  causes  perish;  so 
that  while  knowing  on  the  one  hand  that  all 
these  events,  even  those  which  perplex  me,  are 
sent  of  God,  I  feel  on  the  other  hand,  with  no 
less  of  demonstration,  that  God  is  not  altogether 
there.  Ah  !  it  is  then  that  the  vision  which  Elijah 
saw  brings  me  a  beneficent  and  truly  divine 
light,  for,  if  it  shows  me  that  God  sends  these 
afflictions  which  chastise  the  world,  it  teaches 
me  at  the  same  time  that  His  chastenings  do 
not  make  us  to  know  Him  such  as  He  is,  it 
teaches  me  that  the  secret  of  His  ways  is  else- 
where, that  it  is  entirely  in  that  love  which 
history  does  not  teach  me,  but  that  God  reveals 
Himself  in  silence  to  the  pardoned  soul  which 
believes  in  His  word,  which  listens  and  lets  it- 
self learn  of  Him. 

Grasp  these  consolations,  afflicted  souls.  You 
groan  perhaps  to-day  under  the  weight  of  the 
trial;  it  seems  as  if  God  has  directed  against 
you   all   His  power,   and  in  your  life   you  have 


THE    VISION  OF  ELIJAH. 


seen  realized  all  that  is  terrible  in  the  vision 
of  Elijah.  The  wind  of  affliction  has  swept 
away  your  hopes,  your  happiness  has  vanished 
in  a  day  of  nnourning,  and  your  heart  is  pass- 
ing through  what  the  Scripture  calls  the  furnace 
of  grief.  You  were  told  to  seek  God  in  those 
blows  which  struck  you,  but  your  heart  shud- 
dered, and  like  Elijah,  you  yet  waited.  Ah  ! 
you  are  right,  for  though  these  trials  have 
been  determined  of  God,  it  is  not  here  always 
that  He  will  reveal  to  you  His  will  and  His 
innermost  thought.  Have  faith!  the  day  draws 
near  when  you  will  hear  the  still  small  voice 
which  fell  upon  the  ear  of  the  prophet,  that 
secret  voice  of  the  Almighty  which  alone  ap- 
peases the  soul  in  revolt  and  brings  to  it  un- 
speakable consolations.  You  will  hear  it  and 
you  will  know  then  that  love  was  at  the  bottom 
of  all  His  dispensations,  that  love  alone  can  ex- 
plain your  sorrows,  you  will  know  it,  and  bow- 
ing with  Elijah  and  veiling  your  face,  you  will 
say:   "  Truly  the  Lord  is  here," 

My  brethren,  when  Elijah  had  witnessed  this 
vision  on  Horeb,  the  voice  of  the  Almighty 
spoke  to  him  and  said,  "Go,  return  by  way 
of  the  wilderness  to  Damascus."    Return  !     That 


82  THE    VISION  OF  ELIJAH. 


was  the  word  he  had  need  to  hear,  he  who 
in  a  time  of  danger  had  deserted  his  post  and 
his  mission.  Return  by  way  of  the  wilder- 
ness. By  that  road  which  he  should  never 
have  taken,  for  it  was  not  to  the  desert  God  had 
called  him.  Return  to  those  before  whom  thou 
oughtest  to  have  served  me  as  a  witness  !  Re- 
turn to  those  places  where  hatred,  scorn,  and 
persecutions  await  thee.  Return,  for  if  I  have 
strengthened  thy  faith,  and  lifted  up  thy  fainting 
heart  in  showing  Myself  to  thee  on  the  holy 
mountain,  it  is  not  that  thy  spirit  may  dwell 
there  wrapped  in  ecstasy,  it  is  that  thou  mayst 
go  away,  more  firm  and  faithful,  to  serve  Me 
in  this  world  which  forgets  Me  and  which  is 
perishing. 

Well  !  let  us  listen  to  this  command  of  God, 
and  let  it  be  our  strength.  We  have  come 
here  discouraged,  perhaps,  and  groaning  like  Eli- 
jah; with  him  we  have  learned  once  more  the 
secret  of  the  divine  ways;  but  happier  than  he, 
we  have  seen  the  love  which  Jesus  has  revealed  to 
the  world  and  which  is  for  us  the  supreme  word, 
and  the  ultimate  explanation  of  whatever  happens 
to  us. 

Let    us    return    then,    m\'    brethren,    ourselves. 


THE    VISION    OF   ELIJAH.  83 


to  the  post  of  duty;  let  us  return  to  those  wan- 
dering souls,  to  that  frivolous  society,  to  that 
unbelieving  world,  in  the  midst  of  which  God 
wants  us  to  be  His  witnesses.  Let  us  return 
to  the  world  to  be  humble,  courageous  and 
faithful  in  it,  let  us  return  to  bring  to  it  a  re- 
vived faith,  a  brighter  hope,  a  stronger  and  more 
persevering  love.  Let  us  return  to  it,  that  this 
world  may  learn  in  hearing  our  words,  in  con- 
templating our  works,  that  we  have  climbed 
like  Elijah  the  holy  mountain  and  that  there  we 
have  heard  the  Almighty.     Amen. 


IV. 


Efje  ILfgïjt  of  tfte  Morlîr. 


IV. 

Eïje  3Lisi)t  of  tijc  SEorltt, 

"/  am  the  light  of  the  world.'''' 

John  viii.  12. 

"  I  AM  the  light  of  the  world."  Have  you  ever 
paused,  my  brethren,  before  these  words  .-'  Have 
you  compared  the  impression  which  they  must 
have  made  when  they  were  spoken  for  the  first 
time  with  what  we  feel  in  hearing  them  to-day .-' 

On  a  certain  day  in  history,  in  an  ignorant 
country,  amid  an  insignificant,  conquered  people 
whose  name  awakened  among  greater  nations 
only  a  feeling  of  contempt,  and  whose  degen- 
erate language  was  nothing  but  a  barbarous 
patois,  a  man  whom  they  called  the  rabbi  of 
Nazareth  uttered  in  the  hearing  of  a  few  poor 
ignorant  persons  and  with  an  amazing  boldness, 
these  extraordinary  words:    "I  am  the  light  of 


THE   LIGHT  OF  THE    WORLD. 


the  world."  He  did  not  pretend  simply  to  en- 
large the  luminous  circle  of  humanity,  by  driving 
back  the  shadows  before  the  victorious  light  of 
some  new  truths.  It  was  not  simply  one  light 
more  which  he  announced,  an  advance  added  to 
all  the  other  advances;  it  was  light  in  the  abso- 
lute, eternal,  infinite  sense  of  this  word.  And, 
observe,  that  in  assuming  to  bring  it  to  men,  He 
does  not  say,  "I  announce  the  light,  I  reveal  the 
light,"  but  "/  am  the  light''' ;  it  is  not  His  doc- 
trine only,  it  is  His  life,  it  is  His  entire  being 
that  He  holds  up  to  the  gaze  of  the  human  race, 
and  of  which  He  means  to  make  the  eternal 
focus  whose  light  shall  illuminate  their  darkness. 

Measure  well  the  whole  compass  of  these 
words,  the  whole  extent  of  the  claim  which  they 
express,  and  imagine  to  yourselves  what  a  con- 
temporary of  Jesus  must  have  thought,  a  philos- 
opher of  Athens  or  of  Rome,  in  listening  to 
these  words  preserved  by  a  few  Galileans  who 
scarcely  comprehended  them.  Folly  !  would  this 
sage  have  said;  and  the  Pharisees  of  Jerusalem, 
as  St.  John  relates,  expressed  the  same  idea  in 
their  Jewish  tongue  when  they  said  of  Jesus, 
"He  is  possessed  of  a  devil." 

Now  let  eighteen  hundred  years  roll  by;  look 


THE   LIGHT  OF  THE    WORLD.  89 


well  at  the  world,  look  at  it,  I  do  not  say  as 
Christians  with  what  might  be  called  the  preju- 
dices of  the  believer,  look  at  it  as  impartial  wit- 
nesses, and  you  will  be  obliged  to  acknowledge 
that  these  words,  which  seemed  foolish,  are  to- 
day the  simple  expression  of  a  historic  fact  ra- 
diant with  evidence.  Jesus  is  so  truly  the  light 
of  the  world  that  outside  of  those  regions  where 
His  light  has  spread,  there  is  no  progress,  no 
civilization,  no  faith  in  the  future;  the  shadow  of 
fatalism  falls  and  rests  there. 

To-day  in  the  two  hemispheres,  in  the  new 
as  well  as  in  the  old  world,  millions  of  creatures 
rise  at  the  name  of  Jesus  and  hail  Him  as  the 
sun  of  souls.  Here,  too,  in  this  assembly,  poor 
or  rich,  ignorant  or  learned,  separated  perhaps 
in  all  other  respects,  we  are  united  in  this  com- 
mon experience;  to-day  our  prayers  and  our 
songs  have  affirmed  it,  joining  together  in  the 
grand  canticle  which  the  Christian  church  raises 
everywhere  to  her  chief  Jesus  is  the  light  of 
the  world.  That  is  what  our  Christian  brethren 
say,  scattered  ever3'where  over  the  earth.  At 
first  they  said  it  because  they  had  been  taught 
it;  but  suddenly  their  voice  trembled;  the  truth 
of  tradition  became  to  them  a  truth  of  experi- 


90        THE   LIGHT  OF  THE    WORLD. 


ence.  They  said  it  with  tears  of  joy  and  in 
the  outbursts  of  sublime  admiration.  They  have 
said  it,  they  reiterate  it,  not  only  in  a  time  of 
enthusiasm  and  in  the  intoxication  of  happi- 
ness, but  oftenest  perhaps  in  the  hours  when  all 
human  illusions  grow  pale  and  vanish  before  the 
stern  realities  of  life.  When  the  cold  and  livid 
shadows  of  temptation,  of  sorrow  and  of  death, 
come  upon  them,  there  suddenly  breaks  through 
their  darkness,  the  light  which  comes  from  Christ, 
Many  of  those  who  have  denied  Him  in  their  joys, 
recognize  Him  in  their  suffering;  many  who  have 
blasphemed  Him  in  the  pride  of  their  strength, 
bless  Him  in  their  anguish  and  find  in  Him 
alleviation  of  their  agony. 

It  is  a  story  which  happens  every  day,  every 
hour,  of  which  each  of  us  may  have  been  a  witness, 
and  which  will  repeat  itself  before  this  day  is 
ended.  Hence  these  words,  which  seemed  sense- 
less, have  become  a  truth  which  if  it  were  not  sa- 
cred would  be  called  trite;  the  impossible  has  be- 
come the  real,  the  supernatural  has  become  for 
us  a  thing  altogether  natural,  the  extraordinary 
has  .become  habitual,  and  so  habitual  that  our 
dulled  vision  and  stupid  hearts  perceive  no  longer 
in  it  its  strancre  and  divine  character. 


THE    LIGHT   OF  THE    WORLD.  91 


Christ  said,  "  I  am  the  Hght  of  the  world,"  and 
to  Him  may  well  be  applied  the  famous  saying: 
"  He  is  like  the  sun,  blind  is  he  who  sees  Him 
not."  "  Behold,"  says  the  book  of  Psalms,  in 
speaking-  of  the  star  of  day,  "it  rises  in  one 
extremity  of  the  heavens  and  finishes  its  course 
in  the  other;  there  is  nothing  hid  from  the  heat 
thereof"  And  we  contemplating  the  splendor 
of  our  Christ,  the  sun  of  our  souls,  we  will  say, 
He  has  risen  in  the  east,  and  the  west  has  hailed 
His  glory,  but  shall  not  hail  His  decline;  all 
nations  shall  see  Him  and  shall  leap  for  joy; 
none  can  escape  from  His  light  and  warmth; 
not  even  the  sceptic  who  believes  that  night  is 
come  because  he  has  closed  his  eyes  to  the  light; 
not  even  the  rebellious  unbeliever,  who  says  to 
Christ,  that  His  glory  is  dead  and  His  reign 
is    over. 

I  have  recalled,  my  brethren,  an  undisputed 
fact.  It  is  this  fact  that  we  are  to  study  to-day. 
Let  us  inquire,  first  of  all,  in  what  sense  Jesus 
wished  to  be  called  the  light  of  the  world,  and 
what  is  the  domain  in  which  He  diffuses  His 
light. 

When  one  speaks  to-day  of  ligJit  in  any  other 
than  the  material  sense,  he  almost  always  under- 


92  THE   LIGHT  OF  THE    WORLD. 


stands  by  that  expression  scientific  truth,  such 
as  is  comprehended  exclusively  by  the  intellect. 
And  as  in  this  age  the  sciences  which  have  phys- 
ical nature  for  their  object,  have  made  enormous 
development,  it  is  to  their  progress  that  the 
minds  of  our  day  attach  themselves  with  zeal; 
they  admire  them,  they  extol  them,  they  expect 
from  them  the  true  explanation  of  our  destiny, 
and  the  solution  of  all  the  problems  with  which 
we  find  ourselves  engaged.  Now  it  is  evident, 
my  brethren,  that  the  gospel  does  not  occupy 
itself  with  these  questions;  Jesus  Christ — and  it 
is  one  of  the  most  original  features  in  His  teach- 
ing— has  never  rested  on  what  is  properly  called 
science;  He  has  never  pretended  to  solve  prob- 
lems of  this  kind;  I  defy  you  to  point  out  to  me 
among  all  His  discourses  a  single  one  which  has 
the  character  of  a  scientific  demonstration.  The 
impression  which  His  words  make  does  not  re- 
call in  any  way  that  which  one  feels  in  human 
schools;  the  kind  of  persuasion  which  they  pro- 
duce is  of  an  entirely  different  nature  from  that 
which  is  produced  in  us  by  the  proof  of  a  mathe- 
matical axiom,  or  the  accord  of  a  phenomenon 
with  a  natural  law. 

I  know   that  very  often  Christians   have  over- 


THF-    LIGHT  OF  THF    WORLD.  93 


looked  this  character,  so  profoundly  original,  of 
the  gospel;  they  have  attempted  to  modify  it. 
The  scholasticism  of  the  middle  ages  was  a 
great  effort,  attempted  by  men  of  gertius,  to  re- 
duce Christianity  to  purely  scientific  propositions, 
demonstrated  by  the  syllogism.  It  was  thus  that 
the  great  Thomas  Aquinas,  for  example,  treated 
the  life  and  teachings  of  Jesus  Christ.  It  seems 
that  the  Christians  of  those  days  were  ashamed 
of  the  scientific  poverty  of  the  gospel,  as  the 
scholars  of  the  Renaissance  were  ashamed  of 
its  literary  poverty,  and  forced  themselves  to 
hide  the  simplicity  of  its  style  under  the  tinsel 
that  they  borrowed  from  the  tongue  of  Cicero. 
In  our  day  I  see  many  men,  young  men  espe- 
cially, troubled  by  the  thought  that  the  gospel 
and  science  are  incompatible;  they  are  told  that 
Christianity  supposes  an  entire  cosmogony  now 
obsolete,  that  one  must  admit  that  if  the  earth 
be  immovable,  if  the  sun  crosses  the  sky,  if  the 
firmament  be  a  solid  blue  surface  studded  with 
stars  of  gold,  Jesus  introduced  nothing  new,  that 
He  has  given  us  a  childish  idea  of  rGod;  that  in 
teaching  the  efficacy  of  prayer,  and  in  pretend- 
ing to  work  miracles,  He  failed  to  recognize  the 
permanence  and  the  inflexibility  of  natural  laws; 


94  THE   LIGHT  OF  THE    WORLD. 


and  this  suffices  to  shake  their  faith.  The  gospel 
can  no  longer  give  them  light:  they  believe  it 
entirely  obsolete  since  Copernicus,  Galileo  and 
Newton, — overlooking  the  fact  that  Copernicus, 
Galileo,  and  Newton  were  convinced  Christians. 
It  seems  to  them  then  that  we  take  pleasure  in 
defying  evidence  w^hen  we  assert  that  the  words 
pronounced  by  Jesus,  "I  am  the  light  of  the 
world,"  are  as  true  to-day  as  ever. 

I  do  not  pretend,  my  brethren,  you  will 
understand,  to  deal  here  with  the  question  of 
the  relation  of  the  gospel  to  science:  I  confine 
myself  to  recalling  the  fact,  already  noted  a  mo- 
ment ago,  that  the  gospel,  owing  nothing  to 
science,  stands  before  it  in  a  peculiar  position 
of  quiet  independence.  I  could  wish  that  all 
Christians  were  equally  convinced  of  this.  What 
I  dread  is,  not  the  progress  of  the  natural  sci- 
ences, but  the  claim  of  certain  followers  of  these 
sciences  to  include  in  their  province  moral  and 
religious  problems  and  to  solve  these  by  their 
peculiar  processes;  this  is  what  I  do  not  hesitate 
to  call  a  usurpation. 

I  can  well  understand  the  natural  irritation  of 
men  of  science  when  they  see  believers  disputing 
their  demonstrations,  imposing  upon  them  in  the 


THE   LIGHT   OF  THE    WORLD.  95 


name  of  faith  arbitrary  solutions,  and  at  once 
casting  suspicion  on  them  if  their  conclusions 
do  not  agree  with  the  orthodoxy  of  the  day.  I 
know  that  they  boldly  assert  their  independence, 
and  I  assert  it  with  them;  I  know  that  they  wish 
that  scientific  questions  be  met  and  solved  only 
by  scientific  minds  and  methods. 

But  this  conceded,  and  conceded  distinctly,  I 
ask  them  in  my  turn  to  respect  the  independence 
of  that  other  domain  which  is  called  that  of 
morals  and  religion, — a  domain  which  has  its 
own  laws,  its  own  method  of  demonstration  and 
evidence.  You  cry  out  against  intolerance,  and 
you  are  right,  when  it  is  attempted  to  impose 
upon  a  contemporary  master  of  science,  scientific 
conclusions  like  those  of  the  middle  ages;  and 
yet  you  are  astonished  that  believers  protest, 
when,  postulating  as  an  axiom  the  principle  of 
the  equivalence  of  forces,  you  call  thought  a 
particular  species  of  cerebral  phosphorus,  and 
when  you  say  that  vice  and  virtue  are  se- 
cretions as  necessary  and  natural  as  sugar  or 
alcohol.  As  for  me,  I  reply  that  these  two 
kinds  of  intolerance  are  alike,  and  if  I  must 
choose  between  them,  my  choice  would  be 
the   one   which   does   not    grossly   give    the    lie 


g 6  THE   LIGHT   OF  THE    WORLD. 


to    the    instinct    of   my    conscience    and    to    my 
sense  of  responsibility. 

But  I  deny  that  we  are  reduced  to  this  choice. 
I  believe  that  Christianity  is  never  called  upon 
to  cast  an  anathema  at  science.  On  the  contra- 
ry, let  science  grow  under  the  divine  benediction. 
Let  it  embrace  the  natural  order  which  belongs 
to  it.  We  do  not  reluctantly  submit  to  its  prog- 
ress, we  joyfully  recognize  and  hail  it.  Let  it  sub- 
due the  blind  forces  of  matter,  let  it  throw  its  iron 
roads  over  vast  continents,  spreading  civilization 
in  the  deserts,  bringing  together  the  ends  of  the 
world;  let  it  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning  carry 
human  thought  by  a  mysterious  thread  through 
the  depths  of  the  vast  ocean;  let  it  say  to  man 
if  it  will,  "  Reign,  slave  emancipated  from  mat- 
ter, king  by  thought  and  by  will,  reign  over  this 
world  which  I  have  subjected  to  thee."  We  will 
grant  to  its  pride  such  a  superb  ovation,  pro- 
vided it  concedes  to  us  that  this  triumphant  king 
suffers,  sins,  and  dies,  and  that  the  science  of  the 
nineteenth  century  remains  as  ever  powerless 
and  disconcerted  before  these  three  problems 
called  sin,  suffering,  and  death. 

Indeed  one  cannot  be  deceived  here.  All  the 
progress  of  science  has  not  shed  a  ray  of  light 


THE   LIGHT  OF  THE    IVORLD.  97 


on  the  problem  of  problems,  I  mean  to  say  upon 
our  destiny  itself,  upon  life  with  its  trials,  its 
distractions,  its  shames  and  its  downfalls,  and 
upon  the  final  dread  shipwreck  which  launches 
us  into  the  unknown. 

They  tell  us,  it  is  true,  that  we  ought  to 
ignore  these  questions.  The  positivist's  school 
dogmatically  enjoins  it  ;  it  asserts  that  these 
are  idle  insoluble  questions;  it  bids  humanity  to 
confine  itself  between  the  cradle  and  the  tomb, 
and  to  know  nothing  beyond.  It  does  not  suc- 
ceed in  this.  It  will  never  attain  it.  It  is  the 
honor  and  grandeur  of  humanity  never  to  have 
consented  to  stifle  the  voice  of  its  troubled  con- 
science and  of  its  suffering  heart.  How  expiate 
the  evil  I  hav^e  done  .-*  Where  find  consolation 
in  my  distress  }  These  are  the  questions  which 
have  agitated  and  tormented  humanity  above 
all  others.  It  has  looked  to  heaven  in  prefer- 
ence to  looking  to  earth.  It  has  sought  the  be- 
yond, rather  than  confine  itself  to  the  present. 
Even  in  our  age  when  it  would  seem  as  if  earth 
would  attract  and  charm  it  forever,  where  it 
has  multiplied  here  below  all  that  can  amuse 
it,  where  work  absorbs  it  and  where  pleasures 
enchant    it,    it    cannot    content   itself   with    the 


98  THE    LIGHT   OF  THE    WORLD. 


present  life,  it  obstinately  raises  the  problems 
of  the  invisible  world.  In  vain  it  is  told  that 
these  are  questions  of  no  importance;  it  knows 
that  it  will  not  succeed  in  escaping  them.  To- 
morrow sickness,  poverty,  the  deceptions  of  life, 
an  overwhelming  bereavement,  will  make  us  see 
the  frailty  of  all  which  has  sufficed  us  hitherto 
and  will  compel  us  to  seek  something  better, 
something  permanent,  eternal.  These  questions 
all  sufferers  propose  to  themselves;  all  in  turn 
feel  the  anguish,  all  need  consolation.  There 
comes  a  moment  when  we  demand  light;  yes, 
light  upon  these  mysteries  which  haunt  us, 
light  in  the  thick  darkness.  And  when  this 
darkness  is  that  of  a  troubled  conscience,  when 
it  is  that  of  death  which  robs  us  of  a  being 
ardently  loved,  this  need  of  certainty,  of  con- 
solation, of  hope,  is  such,  that,  sooner  than 
stifle  it,  man  will  seek  to  satisfy  it  with  ridicu- 
lous and  often  abject  superstitions,  and  all  the 
jeers  of  sceptics  will  not  stop  then  the  outburst 
of  his  despair. 

We  must  have  then  an  answer  to  these  ques- 
tions, and  this  answer  the  human  intellect,  de- 
pending upon  its  own  resources,  is  incapable 
of  finding.     All  history  shows  with  what  cour- 


THE    LIGHT   OF   THE    WORLD.  99 


age,  what  perseverance,  what  obstinacy,  it  h;i>; 
exhausted  itself  here.  It  has  not  been  able 
to  attain  any  certainty.  Is  this  not  true  }  Has 
science  ever  consoled  any  one }  When  one's 
conscience  is  troubled  by  remorse  will  he  seek 
a  philosophic  consultation  with  a  member  of 
the  Institute }  When  you  stand  by  the  side  of 
a  death-bed,  or  follow  the  path  to  the  cemetery, 
with  a  desolate,  hopeless  heart,  does  it  occur  to 
you  to  go  and  cast  yourself  at  the  feet  of  a  sa- 
vant .''  Does  not  this  seem  to  you  ironical .''  Oh  ! 
bitter  derision  ! 

This  century  has  made  an  idol  of  science.  It 
is  to  science  that  it  appeals,  it  is  from  it  that  it 
seems  to  await  deliverance,  light,  and  peace;  and 
of  this  idol  we  must  say,  as  the  psalmist  said  of 
the  idols  of  wood  and  stone  of  his  time:  "They 
have  mouths  but  they  speak  not;  eyes  have  they 
but  they  see  not;  they  have  ears  but  they  hear 
not"  (Psalm  cxxxv.  15-17).  Impassive  and  mute 
as  the  sphynx  of  stone  that  ancient  Egypt  placed 
at  the  temple  gates,  it  has  never  spoken  to  hu- 
manity a  word  of  hope,  of  certainty,  of  consolation. 

Well,  it  is  here  that  Jesus  Christ  appears.  It 
is  in  this  night  of  our  destiny  that  these  tri- 
umphant   words    shine   forth:    "I    am    the    light 


lOO  THE   LIGHT   OF  THE    WORLD. 


of  the  world."  He  has  not  shed  light  upon  the 
problems  of  the  material  world  or  of  pure  science; 
that  is  the  domain  which  God  has  left  to  the 
investigations  of  our  intellect  alone;  but  He  has 
shed  it  upon  our  life  itself,  upon  our  struggles, 
our  griefs,  our  agonies;  here  is  His  magnificent 
and  divine  work,  here  is  that  which  belongs  to 
Him  alone. 

How  has  He  done  it .''  I  have  told  you  from 
the  beginning;  it  was  by  the  manifestation  of 
His  person  even  more  than  by  His  doctrine,  since 
He  did  not  say,  "I  bring  the  light  and  the  truth," 
but  "/  avi  the  light  and  I  am  the  truth."  Here, 
my  brethren,  I  wish  to  address  a  few  words  to 
those  of  my  hearers  for  whom  Christ  is  above 
all  a  teacher  of  morals,  but  who  have  not 'yet 
been  able  to  see  in  Him  the  incarnation  of  God, 
the  very  manifestation  of  divinity.  They  have 
often  said  to  us  with  a  tone  of  candor  that  I 
respect,  "Why  talk  so  much  of  the  person  of 
Christ }  Is  it  not  His  doctrine  which  is  the 
essential  thing  t  If  one  does  as  He  commands, 
will  he  not  be  sure  of  pleasing  Him  }  Will  he 
not  be  in  the  truth .?  "  I  agree  with  them. 
Listen  then  to  the  teaching  of  Jesus.  Do  we 
not   licar    Him   speaking   continually  of  Himself 


THE   LIGHT   OF  THE    WORLD. 


and  directing  attention  to  His  person  ?  Does 
He  ask  simply  an  assent  to  His  precepts  ?  No, 
evidently  He  wishes  you  to  see  Him,  to  con- 
template Him,  to  believe  in  Him;  He  wishes  you 
to  receive  Him  in  your  hearts,  and  to  reserve 
for  Him  in  this  inner  sanctuary,  the  first,  the 
most  intimate  and  the  most  sacred  place.  He 
is  not  only  the  prophet  of  truth,  He  is  the  real 
truth;  He  is  not  only  the  proclaimer  of  light.  He 
is  the  light.  This  is  the  true  meaning  of  my 
text,  and  it  is  in  interpreting  it  thus  that  one 
can  comprehend  its  grandeur,  its  richness  and 
its  fruitfulness. 

How  has  the  manifestation  of  the  person  of 
Jesus  Christ  been  the  light  of  the  world  }  To 
this  question  this  is  my  reply:  Because  Jesus 
Christ  has  revealed  to  us  what  God  is,  and  what 
man  should  be,  because  He  has  shown  us  then 
the  relation  which  should  unite  man  with  God, 
because  in  solving  this  question,  the  first  of  all. 
He  has  shed  light  on  all  other  questions  which 
depend  on  it.  He  has  explained  magnificently 
our  destiny.  . 

I  say  first,  that  Christ  has  revealed  to  us  what 
God  is.  It  was  not  that  He  discoursed  upon 
God;   He  has   not  given  us  a  single  philosoph- 


I02  THE    LIGHT    OF    THE    WORLD. 


ical  or  metaphysical  définition  of  God.  But  He 
showed  Him  to  us.  He  was  fully  conscious  of 
their  meaning  when  He  pronounced  these  words: 
"  He  that  hath  seen  me  hath  seen  my  Father." 
He  felt  then  that  He  was  in  His  humanity  "  the 
express  image  of  God,"  as  the  Scripture  says, 
(Heb.  i.  3),  or  to  use  another  expression  of  St. 
Paul,  "the  visible  image  of  the  invisible  God," 
(Col.  i.  15).  And  it  is  a  fact  that  with  Jesus 
Christ  a  new  idea  of  God  entered  humanity. 
Moses  had  revealed  the  only  God,  the  holy 
God,  the  God  all  powerful,  the  just  God;  Jesus 
Christ  revealed  the  God  full  of  mercy  and  ten- 
derness, God  as  providence,  God  as  love.  Light 
was  cast  upon  the  divine  character,  the  final 
and  supreme  light.  What  can  one  add  to  the 
idea  of  God  as  love  .'' 

At  the  same  time  in  Jesus  appeared  a  new 
ideal  of  humanity.  I  do  not  mean  merely  in 
the  discourses,  in  the  teaching  of  Christ.  I  mean 
in  His  person.  Jesus  never  taught  a  systematic 
and  scientific  morality.  He  has  simply  replaced 
the  moral  world  on  its  true  axis  which  is  the 
love  of  God  and  the  love  of  men;  but  He  has 
nowhere  entered  into  a  classification  of  our  du- 
ties, in  a  thorough  explanation   of  the  motives, 


THE    LIGHT    OF    THE    WORLD.  103 


the  ends,  the  impulses  and  the  sanctions  of  our 
moral  activity.  In  the  sermon  on  the  mount, 
He  has  shown  the  interior  and  spiritual  charac- 
ter of  the  law,  He  has  shown  what  is  true  pur- 
ity and  true  love;  in  His  immortal  parables  He 
has  taught  us  by  some  examples  what  are  the 
conditions  of  the  life  eternal,  but  it  is  espe- 
cially by  the  manifestation  of  His  person  and  by 
the  radiance  of  His  life  that  He  has  revealed  to 
us  the  moral  ideal  of  humanity. 

For  the  first  time,  in  Him  we  find  a  life  ful- 
filling absolutely  the  moral  law,  that  is  to  say, 
wholly  directed  by  the  love  of  God  and  of  man — 
a  life  in  which  there  was  not  an  act,  not  a  word, 
not  a  thought,  not  a  motive  of  the  heart  which 
did  not  harmonize  with  the  glory  of  God  and  the 
good  of  mankind,  which  was  not  inspired,  filled, 
penetrated,  by  the  love  of  God  and  man.  In 
Him  we  see  for  the  first  time  the  wonderful 
combination  of  all  the  virtues  which  seem  op- 
posed and  ordinarily  incompatible;  authority  and 
simplicity,  majesty  and  humility,  strength  and 
gentleness;  the  horror  of  evil  and  tender  com- 
passion, purity  without  asceticism,  and  familiar- 
ity without  vulgarity.  Just  as,  to  employ  an  im- 
age that  my  subject  suggests,  the  diverse  colors 


104  "J^HE    LIGHT    OF   THE    WORLD. 


decomposed  by  the  prism,  red,  orange,  yellow, 
green,  blue,  violet,  bright  and  dazzling  as  they 
may  be,  make,  in  reuniting,  the  white  perfect  in 
spotless  splendor;  so  all  the  diverse  features 
which  compose  the  person  of  Christ  unite  and 
blend  in  an  extraordinary  harmony,  so  strik- 
ing that  it  has  forever  impressed  itself  upon 
the  conscience  of  humanity.  In  Him  light  has 
been  cast  forever  on  man.  In  Him  we  see 
man  as  He  should  be.    ,■ 

This  grand  image  is  before  us,  and  every- 
where it  lifts  itself;  the  absolute  return  of  night 
is  impossible.  Doubtless  the  powers  of  darkness 
may  fall  at  times  upon  the  race  of  man;  degra- 
dation, deception,  hypocrisy,  violence  can  even 
use  Christ's  name,  but  malice  and  confusion  will 
not  last  long;  the  light  will  triumph;  treacher- 
ous shadows,  hideous  nightmares,  will  disappear, 
and  in  the  gray  dawn  and  glorious  morning, 
righteouness,  purity,  and  love  will  shine  forth. 

Thus  Jesus  has  perfectly  revealed  to  us  what 
God  is  and  what  man  should  be;  that  is  to  say, 
my  brethren,  He  has  illuminated  the  deep  abyss 
which  separates  man  from  God.  The  more  evi- 
dent and  luminous  has  been  His  holiness,  the 
more  perceptible  has  it  made  our  own  imperfec- 


THE    LIGHT    OF   THE    WORLD.  105 


tion;  all  our  virtues  become  pale  beside  His  per- 
fections, as  the  false  sparkle  of  trinkets  grows 
dim  in  the  presence  of  the  fire  of  a  pure  diamond. 
It  is  not  only  our  crimes  of  which  His  purity 
makes  apparent  the  repulsive  hideousness;  it 
is  those  thoughts,  those  bad  intentions,  those 
hatreds  and  those  evil  desires,  which  no  human 
law  can  reach,  but  which  are  made  manifest  by 
Him.  He  makes  us  to  discern  at  the  same  time 
the  evil  we  have  done  and  the  good  that  we 
have  neglected  to  do;  He  casts  an  inexorable 
light  on  all  false  appearances,  over  all  ostenta- 
tion, the  pursuit  of  human  glory,  self-love  more 
or  less  skilfully  disguised.  Never  before  Him  had 
our  nature  been  so  profoundly,  so  surely  judged, 
never  had  man  been  thus  revealed  to  man. 
Thus  was  fulfilled  the  prophetic  words  pro- 
nounced upon  the  child  Jesus  by  the  aged 
Simeon,  "  By  Him  the  thoughts  of  many  hearts 
shall  be  revealed"  (Luke  ii.  35).  Thus  the  light 
which  radiates  from  His  person  and  which  ap- 
pears to  us  at  first  sublime,  at  length  becomes 
exacting  and  terrible,  since  it  penetrates  to  the 
lowest  depths  of  our  being  and  exposes  our  cor- 
ruption. 

This  light  would  be  insupportable  and  would 


Io6  THE    LIGHT    OF    THE    WORLD. 


leave  us  without  hope,  if  after  having  revealed 
our  misery,  it  did  not  at  the  same  time  reveal  the 
divine  mercy,  and  if  it  did  not  show  to  us  in  God 
a  love  greater  than  our  revolt,  a  pardon  greater 
than  our  iniquity.  Here,  my  brethren,  is  what 
above  all  Jesus  crucified  teaches  us,  and  for  this 
reason  those  grand  words,  "I  am  the  light  of  the 
world,"  never  seem  grander  and  truer  than  when 
they  fall  from  the  cross.  The  sinner  discovers 
and  receives  at  the  foot  of  the  cross  a  grace 
truly  worthy  of  God,  because  it  conserves  His 
justice,  in  revealing  His  mercy;  he  sees  there  sin 
at  the  same  time  judged  and  forgiven.  Strange 
thing  !  God  never  appears  to  him  holier  than 
at  the  moment  when  He  pardons  him,  and 
in  seeing  at  what  price  his  salvation  is  gained, 
he  understands  the  sacred  majesty  of  His  rights 
better  than  when  the  law  resounds  in  solemn 
and  threatening  tones  from  the  heights  of  Si- 
nai. And  at  the  same  time  divine  love  pene- 
trates him  to  depths  until  then  unknown.  That 
active  and  impassioned  tenderness,  that  mercy  of 
which  the  Scripture  had  already  given  us  a 
sublime  idea,  and  of  which  the  parables  of  Jesus 
had  made  so  touching  and  familiar  a  reality,  have 
been   truly  rendered    clear   antl   striking  only  on 


THE    LIGHT   OF    THE    WORLD.  107 


the  cross.  Thus  whoever  looks  upon  it  with  faith 
feels  that  God  is  there,  and  finds  Him,  in  one 
transport  which  decides  forever  his  life.  So  was 
it  with  the  repentant  malefactor  whom  it  first 
saved.  Here  is,  my  brethren,  a  truth  of  experi- 
ence, an  actual  fact  whose  reality  we  can  daily 
verify. 

The  cross  illumines  these  three  dread  myste- 
ries called  sin,  sorrow,  and  death,  upon  which 
science  has  never  been  able  to  throw  any  light. 
Nothing  has  ever  illumined  them  like  the  cross. 
It  shows  the  greatness  and  the  terrible  conse- 
quences of  sin  by  making  us  to  understand  at 
what  price  it  had  to  be  expiated;  but  in  showing 
us  the  expiation  of  it  really  accomplished,  it  as- 
sures us  the  victory  and  forever  destroys  the 
fatality  of  evil.  All  other  religions,  all  philoso- 
phies, must  compromise  with  evil  and  extenuate 
it  in  order  to  make  place  for  it;  the  religion 
of  the  cross  alone  dares  to  see  it  as  it  is,  be- 
cause it  alone  can  crush  it.  It  is  the  same  with 
sorrow;  the  cross  illumines  it,  in  revealing  to  us 
in  God  a  power  of  sympathy  that  man  never 
had  dared  dream  of.  Henceforth  there  will  be 
no  suffering  with  which  the  cross  dares  not 
grapple,  because  there  is  none  which  it  does  not 


I08  THE    LIGHT    OF   THE    WORLD. 


reach  and  console.  As  far  as  we  descend  in  this 
abyss,  we  will  find  there  before  us  Jesus  Christ, 
and  wherever  we  can  find  His  love,  we  find 
consolation. 

Is  there  a  philosophical  theory  of  any  kind, 
a  doctrine  of  resignation  founded  on  the  nature 
of  things  or  on  the  divine  will  which  has  ever 
brought  to  wounded  hearts  the  peace  which  one 
look  at  the  cross  brings  to  them  .-*  Who  can 
count  the  daily  victories  that  the  cross  obtains 
in  this  city  alone,  in  the  century  which  thinks 
itself  to  have  long  since  outgrown  it.  The  cross 
calms  the  troubled  conscience,  it  heals  the  bleed- 
ing wounds  of  the  heart,  it  mitigates  the  terrors 
of  agony.  It  is  our  supreme  weapon  in  those 
terrible  combats  where  all  other  weapons  have 
been  found  ineffective  and  soon  broken;  it  is 
the  last  object  which  we  present  to  the  failing 
vision,  and  we  ourselves,  when  we  feel  the  cold 
sweat  of  agony  on  our  brow,  we  know  that  we 
will  die  tranquil  if  our  soul  can  contemplate 
with  confidence   the  cross  which  has  saved  us. 

Thus  the  destiny  of  entire  humanity  is  illu- 
mined by  Him  who  calls  Himself  the  light  of 
the  world.  But  that  which  is  true  of  our  race 
as   a   whole    is   applicable    also    to   each    of  its 


THE    LIGHT    OF   THE    WORLD.  109 


members;  there  is  not  one  of  our  lives  which 
cannot  itself  receive  from  him  a  consolatory  light. 
Just  as  the  visible  sun,  in  illuminating  the  whole 
world  shows  off  the  brightness  of  the  humblest 
flowers  of  the  field  or  the  sparkling  plumage  of 
the  birds;  just  as  it  has  rays  which  render 
more  brilliant  the  attire  of  the  young  bride, 
which  charm  the  gaze  of  little  children,  and  send 
their  joyous  reflection  into  the  cabin  of  the  poor 
and  the  garret  of  the  sick  artisan;  even  so  the 
gospel,  in  projecting  a  new  and  powerful  light 
upon  the  collective  history  of  our  race,  illumines 
the  path  of  the  smallest,  the  most  ignorant  and 
the  humblest;  so  much  so  that  each  one  of  them 
will  be  sometimes  tempted  to  believe  that  this 
Sun  of  grace  rises  for  himself  alone. 

Wonderful  and  touching  multiplication  of  the 
divine  goodness,  perpetual  miracle,  in  which  the 
sceptic  sees  only  illusion,  but  where  we  must 
needs  recognize  adoringly  the  manifestation, 
active,  universal,  and  perpetual,  of  Him  of  whom 
Christ  has  said  that  He  worketh  continually. 
Thus,  upon  lives  the  most  common  and  degraded 
this  light  turns  the  royal  splendors  of  its  divine 
rays;  joys,  sorrows,  toils,  unrest,  temptations, 
humiliations,  secret  wounds,  heart-rendings,  hid- 


no  THE    LIGHT   OF   'rilE    IVOR  I D. 


den  griefs,  all  the  acts,  all  the  thoughts,  all 
the  impressions  which  form  the  woof  of  our 
existence,  are  illuminated  and  penetrated  by  it. 
And  this  light  is  not  that  of  science,  Avhich 
often,  like  the  glitter  of  the  moon  sparkling 
in  a  frosty  night,  illumines  all  without  warm- 
ing anything.  Warmth,  on  the  contrary,  issues 
from  it,  gentle  and  vivifying,  such  as  only  the 
sympathy  of  a  God  can  be;  it  penetrates  the 
soul  and  floods  it  with  a  joy  hitherto  unknown. 
Under  its  creative  and  fruitful  influence  every- 
thing is  born  again  in  the  transformed  soul, 
even  as  everything  upon  earth  blossoms  again 
at  the  mild  breath  of  spring. 

To  see  this  manifestation  of  divine  grandeur, 
holiness  and  love  which  Christ  brings  to  the 
world,  and  the  numberless  blessings  which  every 
day  proceed  from  it,  it  would  seem  as  if  men 
ought  to  worship  Him  on  bended  knee;  and 
certainly,  if  it  were  true  that,  as  one  philosophy 
proclaims,  our  nature  has  remained  pure,  if  our 
spontaneous  aspirations  went  forth  toward  that 
which  is  just  and  true,  Jesus  Christ  would  soon 
reign  over  humanity.  But  let  us  not  indulge  in 
vain  words;  let  us  remember  how  Jesus  Christ 
has  been   received   by  mankind;   let   us  remem- 


THE   LIGHT  OF  THE    WORLD.  m 


ber  the  hatred  which  has  followed  Him  every- 
where; I  do  not  speak  of  the  blind  hatred  of 
a  misguided  crowd,  I  speak  of  that  of  men 
who  knew  whom  they  were  hating  and  why 
they  hated  Him. 

Let  us  remember  that  if  the  cross  is  the  most 
luminous  and  sublime  of  signs,  it  rises  up  from 
the  sinister  foundation  of  the  most  odious  pas- 
sions that  the  world  has  ever  seen.  "The  light 
shineth  in  darkness,"  said  St.  John,  "and  the 
darkness  comprehended  it  not."  Now  the  gos- 
pel is  not  a  historic  fact  which  happened  once 
for  all  eighteen  centuries  ago;  it  is  a  drama 
which  recommences  and  renews  itself  at  each 
period,  between  those  two  beings  whom  God 
brings  face  to  face, — the  just  and  Holy  Christ 
and  sinning  man.  In  all  human  generations, 
when  holiness  appears,  it  meets  with  the  same 
resistance,  the  same  antipathies,  as  it  did  on 
the  day  when  it  became  incarnate  in  Christ. 
The  world  dreads  this  light  because  this  light 
is  exacting  and  implacable  toward  it,  be- 
cause it  brings  out  all  its  corruption  and  fals- 
ity, because  it  passes  sentence  on  it  in  show- 
ing what  it  is  :  "  For  every  one  that  doeth 
evil    hateth    the    light,    neither   comcth    to    the 


112  THE   LIGHT   OF  THE    WORLD. 


light  lest  his  deeds  should  be  reproved"  (Johr 
iii.   20). 

Nevertheless,  my  brethren,  sooner  or  later  we 
must  come  to  it.  Before  the  Judge  supreme 
nothing  can  remain  unknown,  before  the  holy 
God  nothing  can  live  which  He  condemns.  One 
can  fly  from  the  light  for  a  time.  Some  day 
we  must  be  judged  by  it.  Let  us  anticipate  this 
judgment  !  Let  it  from  this  day  penetrate  our 
lives,  let  it  expose  all  that  our  poor  hearts  con- 
tain of  misery,  selfishness,  evil  desire;  let  us  rec- 
ognize, let  us  confess,  in  humiliation  and  shame, 
all  the  sins  which  accuse  and  dishonor  us.  Let 
us  see  ourselves  as  we  are,  in  spite  of  all  that 
is  cruel  and  bitter  in  such  a  sight. 

O  Jesus  Christ,  light  of  the  world,  divine  re- 
vealer  of  the  truth,  substantial  and  living  truth, 
show  us  what  we  are  in  order  to  save  us  forever 
from  the  illusion  of  pride  which  has  destroyed 
us.  Give  sight  to  our  blinded  eyes,  and  after 
having  made  us  to  measure  the  depth  of  the 
abyss  into  which  we  have  fallen,  reveal  to  us 
each  day  more  and  more  tiie  splendors  of  Thy 
mercy  and  the  joys  of  that  eternal  life  where 
Thou  wouldst  bring  all  those  whom  Thou  hast 
redeemed.     Amen  ! 


V. 


^ï)e  ®[ucpal  ffiifts. 


V. 
Eïje  ®[ncqual  0îft5, 

"Tvr  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  is  as  a  man  travelling  in  afar  coun- 
try, who  called  his  own  servants  and  delivered  unto  them  his  goods. 

'■'■And  unto  one  he  gave  five  talents,  to  another  two,  and  to  another 
one:  to  every  man  according  to  his  several  ability;  and  straightway 
took  his  journey.'''' 

Matt.  xxv.  14.  15. 

What  are  the  talents  which  are  spoken  of  in 
this  parable.  Must  we  take  them  in  a  general 
sense  as  the  gifts  which  (^od  distributes  in  un- 
equal measure  to  every  man,  such  as  health, 
physical  strength,  material  resources,  fortune, 
education,  the  favoring  influences  which  one  finds 
in  his  surroundings  }  Or  must  we  rather  regard 
them  as  purely  spiritual  graces  scattered  lavishly 
or  sparingly  by  the  Sovereign  Dispenser,  from 
whom  descends  every  good  gift,  and  to  whom  all 
the   glory  should  be  rendered .'' 

I  believe,  my  brethren,  that  both  of  these  ex- 
planations are  true,  so  that  neither  excludes  the 


Il6  THE    UNEQUAL    GIFTS. 


Other;  I  believe  that  this  parable  of  Jesus,  like 
nearly  all  of  His  parables,  casts  its  light  at  the 
same  time  over  the  domain  of  nature  and  that 
of  grace.  It  is  in  this  sense,  at  once  strict  )'et 
broad,  that  I  wish  to  study  it  with  you;  and 
not  to  dwell  upon  all  its  lessons  in  detail,  I 
will  speak  in  this  sermon  of  the  unequal  gifts 
which  God  bestows  on  us,  and  in  subsequent 
ones  of  the  service  which  He  asks  of  us,  and  of 
the  account  we  must  all  one  day  render  to  Him. 

At  the  very  threshold  of  this  parable  we  meet 
with  a  word  which  touches  upon  the  most  pain- 
ful, trying  problem  which  our  century  has  at- 
tempted to  solve;  that  is,  the  origin  of  inequal- 
ities. Jesus  attributes  it  without  hesitancy  to 
God.  He  compares  God  to  a  master  who  un- 
equally distributes  his  goods.  I  know  well 
enough  all  the  resentments  which  this  doctrine 
has  awakened  in  our  age.  In  the  eyes  of  many 
justice  and  equality  are  synonymous,  and  con- 
sequently inequality  is  in  their  view  the  same 
as  injustice.  Well,  since  this  question  confronts 
us,  let  us,  my  brethren,  approach  it  with  entire 
sincerity. 

Let  us  observe  first  what  Jesus  Christ  does  not 
say. 


THE    UNEQUAL    GIFTS. 


117 


1.  He  does  not  say  that  the  master  loves  least 
those  to  whom  he  gives  the  least. 

2.  He  does  not  say,  that  the  master  acts  from 
caprice;  on  the  contrary  He  gives  us  to  under- 
stand that  it  is  of  wise  design;  since  each  one 
of  his  servants  receives  "according  to  his  sev- 
eral ability." 

3.  He  does  not  say,  that  this  inequality  lasts 
beyond  the  time  of  trial,  that  is  to  say,  beyond 
the  present  life.  The  two  faithful  servants  who 
had  received  different  portions,  obtain  the  same 
recompense:  "They  enter  into  the  joy  of  their 
Lord." 

But,  these  reservations  made,  let  us  observe 
that  Jesus  Christ  says  plainly,  that  the  master 
gave  to  one  five  talents,  to  another  two,  and 
to  another  one. 

Notice  now  that  what  Jesus  Christ  affirms, 
nature  affirms  also.  Absolute  equality  exists 
nowhere  in  nature,  for  absolute  equality,  if  you 
look  well  at  it,  would  be  uniformity:  and  there 
is  nothing  less  uniform  than  the  works  of  God. 
You  can  gather  thousands  of  leaves  from  the 
same  oak,  and  in  comparing  them  you  will  not 
find  two  that  are  icentical,  or  which  placed 
side  by  side  correspond   even  in   their   principal 


Il8  THE    UNEQUAL    GIFTS. 


fibres.  It  is  the  works  of  man  that  repeat 
themselves  so  fatally:  I  mean  not  only  the 
products  of  our  manufactories,  cast  by  millions 
in  the  same  mould,  or  cut  out  by  the  same  stroke 
of  the  die;  I  mean  the  very  works  of  genius, 
those  whose  spontaneous  inspiration  makes  us 
think  of  the  divine.  Raphael  and  Michael  An- 
gelo  reproduce  themselves,  and  the  critic's  dis- 
cerning eye  easily  recognizes  their  respective 
styles.  In  nature,  on  the  contrary,  and  in  each 
of  the  kingdoms  which  compose  it,  you  will  find 
the  most  wonderful  hierarchy, — and  in  each  de- 
gree of  this  great  system,  life  exerting  itself 
in  ever-varied  forms.  As  you  ascend  in  the 
scale,  the  diversity  increases  ;  at  the  bottom, 
as  in  crystallization,  you  will  find  the  rigidity 
of  geometry:  at  the  top,  with  man,  you  will 
find  the  unexpected,  which  is  the  product  of 
liberty. 

I  observe  not  only  that  this  inequality  is  a 
fact,  but  that  it  is,  moreover,  a  bond  of  union 
between  men;  that  it  obliges  them  to  lean  upon 
each  other,  inasmuch  as  it  is  an  assertion  of 
their  mutual  dependence.  In  a  state  of  abso- 
lute equality  each  one  would  be  sufficient  for 
himself     God   has    not   willed   it   so   to   be.     He 


THE    UNEQUAL    GIFTS.  119 


has  established  among-  us  all  a  necessary  rela- 
tionship; it  is  in  others  that  I  must  find  what  is 
lacking-  in  myself;  it  is  upon  me  that  a  brother 
should  lean  who  is  less  endowed  than  myself. 

Nowhere  does  this  mutual  dependence  appear 
more  beautiful,  more  touching,  than  in  the  fam- 
ily life,  when  this  is  what  it  should  be.  Here  we 
find  marked  inequality  creating-  diverse  relations 
between  all  its  members;  the  man  has  rather 
the  creative  g-ift  and  the  initiative;  the  woman 
excels  in  the  receptive  qualities;  the  vigor  of 
youth  and  the  strength  of  maturity  unite  in 
supporting  the  weakness  of  the  aged  and  the 
inexperience  of  the  child.  Authority  here  finds 
expression,  exercises  itself  in  a  thousand  sweet 
and  charming  ways  which  are  called  influence, 
respect,  wisdom,  kindness,  and  love.  Attempt 
now  to  bring  this  down  to  the  degrading  level 
of  certain  communistic  Utopias,  and  you  will  see 
what  a  protestation  you  will  raise.  Thus  ob- 
serve, at  the  foundation  of  the  family  and  of 
all  society  there  is  inequality. 

Would  you  agree  with  me,  my  brethren,  if  I 
stopped  here  and  sustained  on  one  side  by  the 
authority  of  my  text,  on  the  other  by  that  of 
experience,  I   should  just   simply  conclude   that 


I20  THE    UNEQUAL    GIFT'^. 


all  inequality,  every  form  of  inequality,  is  a  fact 
which  we  must  all  accept  ?  I  am  sure  that  you 
would  not;  I  am  sure  that  on  the  contrary  you 
would  accuse  me  of  falsifying  the  Gospel  by  pre- 
senting it  unfairly,  as  a  partisan  advocate  and 
not  as  a  disciple  of  Jesus  Christ;  and"  you  would 
be  a  thousand  times  right. 

There  is  indeed  an  equality  which  is  just, 
which  is  legitimate,  and  to  which  we  aspire  in 
virtue  of  our  better  nature.  It  is  equality  in  our 
eternal  destiny;  and  you  know  how  clearly  the 
Gospel  states  it.  Rich  or  poor,  learned  or  ig- 
norant, great  or  small  in  earthly  relations,  we 
have  been  redeemed  by  the  same  blood,  and  we 
are  called  to  the  same  heavenly  heritage.  In 
this  sense,  before  God  there  is  no  respect  of  per- 
sons; there  will  not  be  any  in  the  last  judgment, 
there  cannot  be  any  here  below. 

Let  us  beware  however  !  One  can  exaggerate 
this  idea,  and  draw  it  out  to  a  revolting  conclu- 
sion. One  might  say:  "Yes,  we  consent  to  this, 
the  equality  in  Heaven,  upon  condition  that  you 
assure  us  here  below  the  peaceful  enjoyment  of 
our  privileges."  One  might  from  a  wholly  gross 
and  worldly  motive  become  the  defender  of  re- 
ligion and  of  the  Church,  especially  because  as  a 


THE    UNEQUAL    GIFTS.  121 


well-known  cynical  saying  expresses  it, — "The 
Church  is  the  best  keeper  of  the  strong-box." 

My  brethren,  I  do  not  care  to  inquire  how 
many  of  our  fellow  beings,  sceptical  at  heart,  up- 
hold religion  for  this  end  only.  I  will  only  say 
that  their  estimate  is  false,  for  they  impose  on 
no  one;  everybody  sees  through  that  intention, 
and,  much  as  they  wish  it,  they  exercise  no  seri- 
ous influence;  people  can  respect  a  religion  which 
is  a  sincere  belief,  but  they  scorn  and  detest  a  re- 
ligion which  they  can  make  a  tool  of;  and  they 
are  right. 

But  I  protest  against  those  who  would  attri- 
bute to  the  Gospel  the  abuses  which  they  draw 
from  it.  One  might  extract  a  fatal  poison  from 
the  air  we  breathe  and  which  gives  us  life;  do 
not  be  astonished  that  any  one  finds  in  the 
Gospel  a  justification  for  his  selfishness,  a  seda- 
tive to  ease  the  conscience.  What  I  maintain  is, 
that  the  true  logic  of  the  Gospel  leads  in  another 
direction,  which  I  will  point  out  to  you. 

I  have  said  that  we  are  all  equal  in  our  eternal 
destiny,  all  the  objects  of  the  same  love,  all  re- 
deemed by  the  same  blood,  all  called  to  the 
same  salvation.  But  what  are  we  to  understand 
by  this  unless  that  every  man  should  have  an 


122  THE    UNEQUAL    GIFTS. 


equal  right  to  save  his  soul  by  doing  that  which 
the  Gospel  bids  him  do  to  this  end?  Well,  I 
ask  you,  is  this  possible  for  all  of  us  to-day  ? 
Is  this  possible,  I  do  not  say  for  the  heathen 
who  groan  in  the  gloom  of  their  darkness,  but 
for  the  thousands  of  beings  yet  held  in  bon- 
dage by  their  ignorance  and  misery?  Can  purity 
of  soul  and  body  be  preserved  in  certain  condi- 
tions ?  Is  there  not  a  measur^  of  misery  and  ig- 
norance which  distorts  the  conscoace,  as  drunk- 
enness distorts  the  brain  ?  Are  there  not  some 
dark  and  slippery  declivities  where  the  firmest 
step  will  make  a  fatal  slide  ?  Are  there  not 
material  conditions  of  living  and  of  working, 
masses  of  human  beings,  where  the  miasmas  and 
corruption  float  and  ferment  in  the  air  more  rap- 
idly even  than  the  fetid  ojdors  one  breathes 
there  ?  To  sum  it  all  up,  you  Christian  mothers 
who  listen  to  me,  would  you  like  your  children 
tenderly  brought  up,  to  be  exposed  for  a  day, 
or  an  hour,  to  the  sights,  to  the  language,  to 
the  streams  of  immorality  in  the  midst  of  which 
thousands  of  children  like  your  own  are  reared 
and  who  like  your  own  were  capable  of  under- 
standing all  that  is  pure,  great,  and  holy  ? 

Therefore  I  say,  as  long  as  such  facts  exist,  as 


THE    UNEQUAL    GIFTS.  123 


long  as  such  inequality  manifests  itself  in  such  a 
cruel  way,  opening  before  us  such  frightful  per- 
spectives, we  cannot,  we  ought  not  to  take  sides 
with  it.  We  must  suffer  from  it;  the  Gospel  must 
reproach  us  with  it,  and  weary  us  with  it;  this 
religion  which  we  would  fain  make  a  pillow  of 
idleness,  must  be  changed  to  a  pricking  needle. 
Holding  our  conscience  unceasingly  on  the 
watch,  we  must  in  the  midst  of  our  luxuries,  of 
our  frivolity,  of  our  elegant  pleasure, — in  our 
daily  life,  honest  perhaps,  but  deplorably  and 
miserably  selfish, — we  must  listen  to  the  words 
of  the  Master,  "  I  was  an  hungered  and  ye  gave 
me  no  meat.  I  was  thirsty  and  ye  gave  me  no 
drink.  I  was  sick  and  ye  did  not  visit  me.  De- 
part from  me  ye  cursed  !  " 

Thus  the  belief  in  equality  in  our  eternal  des- 
tinies should  lead  us  to  combat  with  energy  all 
that  which  in  the  inequalities  of  the  present  life 
might  prejudice  the  moral  life  of  our  fellow  be- 
ings, all  the  excesses  of  misery  and  suffering 
which  place  their  souls  in  evident  peril.  He  does 
not  deserve  the  name  of  Christian  who  consents 
to  leave  his  brother  in  a  state  of  moral  servitude 
and  abasement  of  which  the  inevitable  conse- 
quence must  be  his  degradation. 


124  THE    UNEQUAL    GIFTS. 


This  reservation  made,  and  you  see  that  it  is 
necessary,  we  will  not  return  to  it  again,  except 
as  we  face  it  in  our  text — "To  one  five  talents, 
to  another  two,  to  another  one."  Inequality  in 
the  present  time  remains  a  fact,  and  a  fact  de- 
termined  by   God. 

Before  this  fact  what  must  we  do }  Accept 
it,  so  far  as  it  does  not  wound  the  conscience; 
accept  it  in  seeking  to  alleviate  it,  and  to  soft- 
en its  asperities;  but  accept  it  finally,  humbly, 
bravely,  and  without  murmuring.  You  are  poor, 
you  are  a  workingman,  you  toil;  you  are  not 
among  those  called  the  privileged  ones  of  this 
world;  you  have  only  your  two  talents,  only  one 
talent.  What  difference  does  it  make }  Are  you 
less  beloved  by  God  for  this  }  Are  you  less 
a  man,  a  child  of  God,  an  immortal  soul }  Is 
your  life  depreciated  and  degraded  by  it .''  Do 
not  let  yourself  say  this;  let  it  not  lower  your 
dignity  as  a  man  and  Christian;  look  at  your 
life  in  its  true  grandeur,  in  t^ie  light  of  eternity. 
Say  to  yourself  that  if  you  do  toil,  Jesus  the  Son 
of  God,  the.  King  of  souls,  has  toiled  and  has 
suffered;  say  that  His  hands,  before  He  raised 
them  to  bless  humanity,  were  hardened  by  the 
touch   of  the   tools   of  labor;   say  that   our   true 


THE    UNEQUAL    GIFTS.  125 


nobility,  our  real  dignity,  we  owe  to  those  chil- 
dren of  the  people  who  were  called  Peter,  An- 
drew, Philip,  and  James;  and  that  since  Christ 
saved  humanity  by  suffering  for  it  and  by  toiling 
for  it,  there  is  no  solid  greatness,  no  lasting 
glory,  but  that  which  is  gained  by  service  and 
self-sacrifice. 

Moreover,  one  thought  here  should  stop  the 
murmuring  on  your  lips,  and  that  is,  the  wis- 
dom of  the  Almighty. 

God  knows  no  fickleness;  He  abides  faithful 
to  His  nature;  He  is  and  will  ever  remain  just 
and  good.  St.  James  says,  "  There  is  in  Him 
no  shadow  of  turning."  Now  what  rule  does 
He  follow  in  the  distribution  of  His  gifts  }  "To 
each  one  according  to  his  ability."  God  did  not 
cast  us  all  in  the  same  mould.  He  made  us 
different,  and  that  is  well,  but  it  must  follow 
that  our  abilities  differ  also.  And  by  this  word 
*'  abilities  "  you  must  not  only  understand  the  in- 
tellectual capacities.  There  is  evidently  some 
other  meaning  here  which  includes  especially 
the  moral  abilities,  our  fitness  to  bear  such  and 
such  a  burden.  It  is  just  here  that  we  are  in- 
clined to  practice  on  ourselves  prodigious  delu- 
sions.    We  can   have  an   exact   enough  idea  of 


126  THE    UNEQUAL    GIFTS. 


our  intellectual  faculties,  to  recoil  from  a  task 
which  is  evidently  beyond  them,  or  to  judge 
without  presumption  that  we  might  be  placed 
higher  than  we  are;  but  what  we  but  imperfect- 
ly know,  what  we  do  not  sufficienty  ask  of  our- 
selves, is  whether  we  are  morally  strong  enough 
to  meet  success,  fortune,  greatness.  Just  here 
is  a  fact  which  strikes  me.  The  men  who 
criticise  most  severely  those  who  are  above  them 
are  most  assuredly  the  least  capable  of  replacing 
them.  The  poor,  full  of  envy,  should  they  be- 
come rich,  would  be  full  of  pride;  the  ambitious 
embittered,  would  be  parvenus  full  of  harshness; 
those  who  waver  under  the  temptations  of  a 
moderate  position  would  have  been  blinded  by 
the  prestige  of  a  higher  position. 

Do  you  believe,  my  brethren,  that  you  are  in 
the  hands  of  that  stupid  idol  called  chance  }  Or 
do  you  believe  in  a  divine  intervention  in  your 
destiny.?  If  you  believe  that  God  is  great  enough 
to  think  of  you  who  are  small,  if  you  believe  that 
He  despises  none  of  His  creatures,  and  that  your 
salvation  is  not  indifferent  to  Him  who  sent  His 
Son  here  below  to  redeem  you,  you  will  believe 
at  the  same  time  that  in  His  wisdom  He  has  as- 
signed to  you  the  place  you  should  have,  because 


THE    UNEQUAL    GIFTS.  127 


He  knows  better   than  you   your   abilities,   and 
what  will  crush  them. 

You  will  doubtless  say  to  me  that  I  preach 
here  a  resignation  wholly  passive,  that  I  fix  each 
immovably  in  his  position,  that  I  imprison  him  in 
a  circle  traced  by  the  divine  hand,  and  that  this 
will  tend  to  stifle  all  progress,  all  ambition,  and 
to  lead  us  back  to  the  government  of  castes.  I 
beg  that  you  will  not  misconstrue  my  thought, 
I  do  not  intend  by  any  means  to  preach  here  a 
fatalistic  resignation.  I  believe  that  Christianity 
which  proposes  to  us  nothing  less  than  perfec- 
tion, and  which  proposes  this  to  all,  tends  to 
stimulate  all  our  faculties  and  incite  us  with 
energy  on  to  progress.  For  this  idea  of  progress 
has  entered  into  humanity  with  the  purely  Chris- 
tian idea  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  Nothing  is 
more  natural  than  that  one  should  desire  to  go 
forward  in  an  age  and  society  where  all  careers 
are  open  to  all.  But,  at  the  same  time,  I  be- 
lieve that  in  order  to  advance,  one  must  have 
the  necessary  capacities,  such  as  are  self-evident: 
I  believe  that  Avhen  God  gives  them  to  a  man 
He  makes  him  see  so  clearly  that  it  is  impos- 
sible to  doubt.  If  you  have  received  such  ca- 
pacities  show  it.     This   is,    need    I   say  it,    the 


128  THE    UNEQUAL    GIFTS. 


rare  exception.  If  you  have  them  not,  bless 
God  that  He  has  placed  you  in  a  position  where 
giddiness  cannot  attack  you;  accept  resolutely 
your  place,  and  murmur  not  because  you  have 
received  but  two  talents. 

Do  you  know  anything  in  history  sadder  than 
the  reign  of  a  fool,  or  of  a  child  incapable  of  rul- 
ing, yet  possessing  absolute  power .<*  "Woe  to 
thee,  O  land!"  say  the  Scriptures,  "when  thy 
king  is  a  child"  (Eccl.  x.  i6).  When  I  see  in  the 
Louvre,  portraits  of  the  infantas  of  Spain  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  such  as  the  brush  of  Ru- 
bens or  Velasquez  has  preserved  for  us,  in  read- 
ing upon  the  pale  countenances  of  these  poor 
weaklings,  their  profound  and  helpless  incapa- 
city, I  foresee  the  downfall  of  a  country  they 
are  called  upon  to  govern,  and  I  tremble  when  I 
think  that  these  imbeciles  may  be  taken  from 
their  puerile  pleasures,  or  from  their  miserable 
devotions,  in  order  to  put  their  signature  to 
the  warrant  for  a  heretic's  death  or  to  attend 
some  ajito-da-fe.  But  what  we  see  here  in  a 
grand  sphere,  occurs  every  day  on  a  narrower 
stage,  in  those  families  where  a  large  inheritance 
falls  into  the  hands  of  a  prodigal  or  a  fool.  Noth- 
ing  is   so   sad   as   to   receive   more  than  one  can 


THE    UNEQUAL    GIFTS.  129 


bear.  How  many  consciences  have  staggered 
under  the  responsibiHties  too  heavy,  how  many 
hearts,  which  seemed  vaHant  and  pure,  have 
been  unable  to  bear  the  temptations  of  too  great 
prosperity  ? 

God  alone  knows  the  foolish  dreams  all  of  us 
here  present  have  indulged  in,  dreams  of  pride, 
of  vanity,  of  fortune,  of  happy  love,  alas  !  per- 
haps of  guilty  passions,  of  detestable  and  shame- 
ful pleasures.  Ah  !  if  all  of  our  past  ambitions 
could  speak,  what  sad  confessions  we  would 
hear  !  I  confine  myself  to  one  question.  If  you 
had  been  gratified,  if  you  had  received,  I  do  not 
say  five  talents,  but  the  hundred,  the  thousand 
you  have  dreamed  of,  would  you  be  here  t  Would 
you  be  bowed  for  a  single  moment  before  God 
under  the  sense  of  your  misery .''  Would  you 
with  a  fervent  heart  be  praising  Him  for  His  mer- 
cies .'*  Would  you  be  caring  for  eternity  .-*  Would 
you  be  following  the  narrow  way  .''  Without  af- 
fliction, without  disappointed  dreams,  without 
delusions,  without  sorrows,  without  poverty, 
would  you  go  to  Him  who  has  said,  "Come 
unto  me,  all  ye  who  are  weary  and  heavy  laden"? 
To  sum  it  all  up  in  a  word,  would  you  be  Chris- 
tians, would  you  be  saved  t 


T30  THE    UNEQUAL    GIFTS. 


The  talents  were  distributed.  What  says  the 
Gospel  next?  "The  master  straightway  took 
his  journey."  This  is  not  the  only  time  that 
Jesus  employs  similar  expressions  to  indicate 
the  attitude  that  God  takes  towards  humanity 
in  this  short  period  of  the  divine  existence  that 
we  call  the  history  of  the  world.  What  does 
this  mean  .''  Is  God  absent .''  Can  God  separate 
Himself  from  His  work  .'*  Would  Jesus  teach 
this  .''  Could  His  God  be  the  God  of  Descartes, 
of  whom  Pascal  said,  "  Descartes  only  needed 
Him  to  give  the  first  impetus  to  a  world  which 
is  afterwards  left  to  its  natural  laws".''  Beware 
of  thinking  so.  No  one  more  than  Jesus  Christ 
has  spoken  of  the  close  and  constant  relation 
of  God  with  the  world.  Do  you  remember  His 
sublime  and  familiar  teachings  of  the  lilies  of 
the  field  and  the  birds  of  the  air,  of  whom  God 
takes  care  and  whom  He  clothes  more  magnifi- 
cently than  Solomon  in  all  his  glory  .'* 

If  Jesus  here  compares  God  to  a  master 
who  is  absent,  it  is  because  God  seems  really 
to  be  so.  He  does  not  commune  with  us  di- 
rectly. Between  Him  and  us  there  are  what  we 
call  the  laws  of  nature;  that  is,  as  well  as  we 
can  represent  it,  His  ideas  realized  in  time  and 


THE    UNEQUAL    GIFTS.  131 


space.  Well,  these  laws  have  a  double  effect. 
Suppose  a  truly  religious  soul  which  has  come 
into  direct  communication  with  God  by  faith,  and 
by  that  exercise  of  faith  which  is  called  prayer; 
these  laws  transport  that  soul  by  their  sublimity, 
their  harmony;  moreover  that  soul  knows  that 
back  of  those  laws  there  is  the  loving  heart  of 
a  living,  ever-present  God.  Suppose,  on  the 
contrary,  a  soul  indifferent  and  without  faith; 
these  laws  produce  upon  it  a  different  effect;  it 
sees  only  in  them  the  character  of  fate,  neces- 
sary, inexorably  periodic;  the  world  seems  to  it 
more  and  more  like  an  immense  chain  of  causes 
and  effects,  like  an  endless  mill-gearing,  like  the 
working  out  of  an  eternal  fatality. 

My  brethren,  here  is  the  great  test  of  faith. 
God  hides  His  face,  God  remains  silent.  The 
moral  law  is  violated,  but  He  speaks  not;  men 
blaspheme  and  insult  Him,  He  speaks  not;  the 
wicked  triumph,  yet  He  speaks  not.  Then  the 
scoffers  become  bold,  and  the  ancient  challenge 
which  the  sceptics  flaunted  before  the  prophet- 
king  is  repeated — "What  is  thy  God  doing.'"- 

I  repeat  it,  this  is  the  great  test  of  faith,  but 
this  test  has  been  foretold  us  ;  we  must  ex- 
pect it.     We  must  see  the  hidden  God,  we  must 


132  THE    UA' EQUAL    GIFTS. 


hear  the  silent  God,  we  must  always  confess  His 
justice,  His  mercy,  and  His  love,  in  spite  of  all 
the  wrongs  which  defame  Him.  We  must  serve 
Him  and  await  Him,  as  if  He  might  appear  to- 
day. "Blessed,"  says  the  Scripture,  "is  that  ser- 
vant whom  his  Lord  when  He  cometh  shall  find 
watching."     Amen. 


VI. 


iLa^arus  at  tïje  Eirîj  Jlan's  ©oor* 


VI. 
Ea^arus  at  tije  Etc]^  JEan's  ÎBoon^ 

"  There  was  a  certain  rich  man  which  was  clothed  in  purple  and 
fine  linen,  and  fared  sumptuously  every  day. 

'■'■And  there  was  a  certain  beggar  ■named  Lazarus,  which  was  laid 
at  his  gate,  full  of  sores. ^^ 

Luke  xvi.  19,  20. 

Are  you  not  impressed,  my  brethren,  with  the 
striking  contrast  which  these  simple  words  pre- 
sent ?  It  is  now  eighteen  centuries  since  they 
were  spoken.  Have  they  lost  anything  of  their 
reality }  Wealth,  misery  !  always  before  us,  to- 
day, as  then;   and  in  such  sense  before  us  that 

'  In  this  sermon,  altogether  special,  delivered  before  an  audience 
assembled  to  form  a  collection  for  the  poor,  one  must  not  look 
for  what  I  neither  could  nor  wanted  to  discuss  here.  In  other 
circles,  where  luxury  has  not  attained  the  proportions  which  so 
menace  us,  but  where  selfishness  seeks  elsewhere  its  satisfaction 
and  its  pleasure  there  would  be  something  else  to  say.  Incom- 
plete as  this  discourse  may  be,  I  have  decided  to  write  and  publish 
it  in  view  of  the  requests  that  have  been  made  for  it. 


136      LAZARUS  AT  THE  RICH  MAN'S  DOOR. 


their  conflict  is  of  all  social  questions,  the 
chief,  the  most  difficult,  the  darkest,  the  full- 
est of  menace  for  the  future.  But  for  this  ter- 
rible problem,  solutions  have  not  been  wanting, 

"  No  more  rich  !  "  some  have  said,  and  we  have 
heard  the  crowd  repeating  this  mad  cry — "  No 
more  rich  !  Let  us  strike  down  opulence,  let  us 
attack  capital,  let  us  do  away  with  the  right 
of  inheritance  !  "  and  they  did  not  see  that  in 
thus  saying,  they  struck  a  death  blow  at  liberty, 
and  with  liberty  energy,  and  with  energy  labor 
itself,  to  leave  us  only  the  equality  of  savages, 
who,  with  nothing  laid  up  for  the  morrow,  fall 
asleep,  indifferent,  until  hunger  forces  them  to 
seek  their  prey. 

"No  more  poor!"  others  have  cried,  and  in  this 
age  a  loud  echo  has  responded  to  them:  "No 
more  poor  !  "  Ah  !  if  there  had  been  in  this  but 
a  wish,  an  outburst  of  charity!  But  they  made 
it  a  motto,  and  a  promise.  No  more  poor  !  and 
some  said,  "  The  state  ought  to  assure  work  to 
all";  others,  "The  state  will  feed  the  poor"; 
and  they  did  not  see  that  they  are  imposing 
upon  the  state  an  impossible  task,  that  they 
would  thus  create  the  most  artificial  and  tyran- 
nical Utopia;  they  did  not  sec  in  short  that  they 


LAZARUS  AT  THE   RICH  MAN'S  DOOR.       137 


ignore  human  nature.  For,  to  decree  that  there 
shall  be  no  more  misery,  would  amount  to  de- 
creeing- there  shall  be  no  more  indolence,  no 
more  vices,  no  more  passions,  no  more  sin. 

But,  while  these  theories  succeed  in  mislead- 
ing the  multitude  into  cruel,  deceptive  dreams, 
which  must  leave  them  without  consolation  and 
without  bread,  the  evil  continues  its  slow  and 
fatal  march. 

No  more  rich,  no  more  poor  !  Go  to-day  to 
England,  that  classic  ground  of  philanthropy 
and  social  economy;  there  you  will  see,  by  the 
side  of  the  most  colossal  wealth  gathered  from 
all  parts  of  the  world,  a  nameless  misery,  which, 
after  having  exposed  its  savage  degradation  to 
the  sun  each  day,  takes  refuge  at  night  in  dens, 
of  which  a  benevolent  man,  who  visited  them, 
said  recently  in  a  famous  article,  that  only 
Sodom  could  shelter  such  infamies. 

See  where  we  are — in  the  year  1866.  The 
rich  and  the  poor  face  to  face,  as  in  the  words 
of  my  text,  and,  if  the  abundance  and  the  re- 
sources of  the  former  have  increased  by  the  prog- 
ress of  a  civilization  of  eighteen  centuries,  the 
misery  of  the  latter  is  as  real,  as  consuming  as 
ever. 


138       LAZARUS  AT  THE   RICH  MAN'S  DOOR. 


To  this  evil,  what  social  remedy  must  be  ap- 
plied ?  This  is  not  my  subject,  my  brethren; 
such  a  question  is  foreign  to  my  task.  I  am  not 
here  to  examine  systems,  I  take  humanity  as  I 
find  it.  I  see  before  me  the  rich,  and  the  poor; 
I  believe  these  will  continue  to  be  to-morrow, 
as  they  were  yesterday;  and  in  the  name  of  the 
Gospel,  I  come  once  more  to  recall  to  the  former 
their  duties  toward  the  latter.  The  subject  is  not 
new  I  admit,  no  newer  than  suffering.  I  shall 
repeat  probably  what  you  have  heard  a  hundred 
times.  What  of  that }  The  day  when  our  self- 
ishness shall  die,  I  promise  you,  my  brethren,  to 
cease  speaking  of  charity,  of  sacrifice. 

Behold  Lazarus  laid  at  the  rich  man's  gate  ! 
Now  !  what  I  ask  first  is,  that  the  rich  man  fix 
his  eyes  on  Lazarus.  I  mean  here  by  the  rich, 
all  those  before  whom  some  Lazarus  is  lying,  all 
those  who  have  it  in  their  power  to  aid  and 
comfort  him. 

Look  at  Lazarus  !  But  understand  me  fully. 
It  is  not  a  question  of  being  moved  to  pity  in- 
cidentally, at  the  story  of  some  unfortunate,  of 
throwing  him  a  few  alms,  of  acting  a  certain 
rôle  in  some  work  of  charity,  and  after  having 
thus  eased  the  conscience,  of  complacently  say- 


LAZARUS  AT  THE  RICH  MAN'S  DOOR.       139 


ing,  "What  a  philanthropic,  generous  age  this 
is  !  "  It  is  a  question  of  meeting  suffering  face  to 
face,  and  of  becoming  acquainted  with  it.  This 
is  what  I  call  looking  at  Lazarus.  Is  it  done  ? 
Do  you  believe  that  it  should  be  done  1  Ours 
is  the  age  of  systems  of  benevolence,  of  asso- 
ciations, of  institutions.  There  is  great  prog- 
ress !  you  will  say.  Yes,  but  fatal  progress,  if 
it  is  to  prevent  that  direct  contact  of  the  rich 
and  the  poor,  of  the  happy  and  the  wretched, 
which  the  Gospel  enjoins  on  every  page,  and 
whose  healthful  action  no  institution  can  su- 
persede. 

I  know  what  you  will  reply — '*  Time  is  want- 
ing !  "  And  I  am  not  of  those  who  condemn  this 
excuse.  To-day,  in  all  vocations,  life  is  more 
and  more  like  a  forced  march;  each  seeking 
to  arrive  first  at  the  end.  Every  career  is  en- 
cumbered, the  new-comers  press  on  impatiently, 
and  want  to  find  their  place.  It  is  a  struggle, 
a  mob,  through  which  one  must  push  ahead  for 
fear  of  being  quickly  supplanted.  Never  per- 
haps since  man  has  worked  was  work  more  se- 
yerc,  more  crushing.  People  do  not  walk,  they 
run.  Woe  to  him  who  stops  to  breathe  too 
long  !     But  is  it  always  duty  which  compresses 


I40      LAZARUS  AT   THE  RICH  MAN'S  DOOR. 


life  to  this  point  ?  I  ask  it  of  those  to  whom 
God  has  given  a  Httle  of  ease  and  fortune.  Is 
it  true  that  you  have  absolutely  no  leisure,  no 
rightful  leisure  ?  Now  in  a  society  where,  I  do 
not  say  the  Christian  spirit,  but  simply  justice 
predominates,  do  you  believe  that  the  leisure 
of  those  who  have  means  does  not  providen- 
tially belong  to  those  who  bear  the  burden  of 
daily  toil?  In  this  leisure,  what  part  are  you 
acting  towards  Lazarus,  what  portion  of  your 
time  do  you  give  to  poverty  and  sorrow  ?  Ah  i 
leisure  thus  consecrated  is  a  noble  mission,  it 
is  a  grand  beneficence  both  for  the  unfortunate 
and  for  yourselves  !  We  are  going  then  to  see 
you  at  the  work;  and  we,  the  insignificant  of 
the  earth,  weighed  down  by  work  and  tied  to 
our  post  by  care  for  our  daily  bread,  we  are 
going  to  lean  upon  you  to  whom  God  has  given 
a  portion  j^-ivileged  among  all.  Alas  !  this  were 
to  leave  out  of  account  the  ambition,  the  self- 
ishness, the  worldliness,  which  would  usurp  that 
leisure  and  absorb  it  all. 

I  take  an  example,  and  I  take  it  from  a  class 
which  is  in  constant  contact  with  the  sufferings 
of  the  people,  and  cannot  justify  itself  by  the 
plea  of  ignorance. 


LAZARUS  AT   THE  RICH  MAN'S  DOOR.       141 


Here  is  a  large  manufacturer,  whose  fortune 
amounts  to  opulence;  in  his  workshops,  in  his 
warehouses,  the  workmen  number  thousands;  all 
those  arms,  all  those  wills,  all  those  energies 
belong  to  him,  and  from  morning  till  night  obey 
him.  He  has  known  how  to  train  those  produc- 
tiv^e  powers,  and  by  practice  and  skill  to  make 
them  do  all  they  are  capable  of  But  in  those 
workshops  there  is  suffering;  the  air  is  unhealthy, 
faces  become  pale  and  pinched,  men  and  women 
work  promiscuously;  the  moral  atmosphere  is 
charged  with  filth  and  corruption;  the  appren- 
tice, to  whom  the  law  gives  rest  on  Sunday, 
is  cheated  out  of  it,  as  is  the  case  in  the  ma- 
jority of  our  large  factories  in  Paris;  and  there, 
bent  over  his  machines,  stupefied  by  work  pre- 
mature and  unrelaxed,  deprived  more  and  more 
of  a  religious  and  moral  life,  he  languishes, 
affected  with  degeneration  of  the  blood,  and 
rickety  in  body  and   mind. 

But  that  man  upon  whom  rests  so  grave  a 
responsibility,  that  man,  the  soul  and  the  head 
of  that  industry,  why  does  he  pass  coldly  by 
those  sufferings  which  he  might  relieve  by  giv- 
ing to  them  for  a  moment  that  steady  look 
and  that  resolute  action  which  he  gives  to  ev- 


142      LAZARUS  AT  THE  RICH  MAN'S  DOOR. 


erything  he  undertakes  ?  My  brethren,  he  has 
not  time.  ...  to  look  at  Lazarus  !  What,  he  ! 
And  do  you  not  see  what  absorbs  him,  what 
is  furrowing  wrinkles  in  his  brow,  what  is  fill- 
ing his  heart  and  his  thoughts.?  There  before 
him  are  those  rivals  whom  he  must  outstrip, 
those  fortunes  whose  colossal  figures  seem  to 
insult  his  own,  those  riches,  those  splendors 
which  float  before  his  imagination  !  This  end  !  he 
must  attain  it,  he  must  press  on,  press  on  still, 
run,  without  losing  a  moment. 

But  has  not  that  man  a  wife.  Christian  daugh- 
ters, capable  of  feeling,  and  of  thinking  of  those 
thousands  of  beings  whose  existence  and  happi- 
ness are  so  closely  bound  to  him  .''  They  have 
pious  and  susceptible  hearts,  they  have  wept  a 
hundred  times  over  touching  stories  of  imaginary 
ills,  they  have  groaned  like  yourselves  over  the 
fate  of  the  people,  over  those  poor  children  cor- 
rupted at  an  early  age  and  deprived  of  all  that 
our  own  enjoy  in  abundance.  They  are  surely  go- 
ing to  act,  they  are  going  to  visit  these  families, 
to  look  close  at  these  miseries,  to  offer  to  those 
women,  to  those  young  girls  a  helping  hand.  .  .  . 
Ah!  you  have  left  worldliness  out  of  the  account. 
To    look   at   Lazarus!     What,   they!     But    their 


LAZARUS  AT   THE  RICH  MAN'S  DOOR.       143 


heart  is  elsewhere.  Between  the  pleasures  of 
yesterday  and  those  of  to-morrow,  between  the 
recollections  of  the  last  season  and  the  toilettes 
of  the  new  season,  midst  all  those  ambitions, 
all  those  rivalries,  all  that  selfishness,  how  can 
you  expect  them  to  find  time  to  think  of  what 
is  passing  down  there  in  the  faubourg,  within 
those  sad  bare  walls,  amid  that  indigent,  irre- 
ligious, miserable  population  ?  The  faiibowg, 
they  will  cross  it  some  day,  proudly  attired, 
resplendent,  conveyed  by  rapid  horses;  it  is  in 
this  way  that  the  people  will  learn  to  know 
them — and  on  the  following  Sunday,  seated  like 
you,  my  sisters,  in  church,  they  will  condemn 
like  you  this  rich  man  of  the  parable  who  left 
Lazarus  to  suffer,  abandoned,  at  the  gate  of 
his  palace  ! 

Let  us  go  further,  and  let  us  say  what  every 
one  knows,  and  every  one  thinks.  The  reason 
why  many  to-day  do  not  want  to  look  at  Laza- 
rus, is  that  they  are  not  strangers  to  his  suffer- 
ing, and  that  their  conscience  will  find  in  it  a 
sting. 

The  Gospel  speaks  to  us  of  unrighteous  riches. 
What  name  must  be  given  to  numerous  forms  of 
it  which  spring  up  to-day?     A  man  undertakes 


144     LAZARUS  AT  THE  RICH  MAN'S  DOOR. 


a  transaction  which  he  knows  is  either  wholly 
bad,  or  liable  at  least  to  enormous  chances  of 
failure.  What  difference  does  it  make  !  He  un- 
dertakes it;  once  undertaken  it  must  be  made  to 
succeed:  the  means  well  understood  offer  them- 
selves; without  putting  his  own  hand  to  them,  he 
lets  them  act;  soon  a  grand  announcement  fills  the 
newspapers;  the  most  pressing  solicitations,  the 
most  brilliant  promises  held  up  before  the  eyes 
of  the  ignorant,  all  the  seductions  of  easy,  rapid 
and  sure  gain.  They  come  forward,  alas  !  the 
poor  fools,  to  give  to  the  tempting  speculation, 
one,  the  savings  of  a  lifetime  slowly  acquired  by 
the  sweat  of  his  brow,  another,  the  portion  and 
the  bread  of  his  children.  And  why  should  they 
not  do  so }  Who  warns  them,  who  informs 
them  }  So  they  come  forward,  and,  made  up 
of  all  these  spoils  snatched  from  honest  labor, 
the  capital  increases,  increases  constantly,  until 

all  of  a  sudden  it  crumbles,  it  melts  away 

Go,  now,  poor  father  of  a  family;  go,  poor  work- 
ing man,  who,  during  thirty  or  forty  years  have 
faithfully  done  your  duty  ;  go,  poor  working- 
woman,  who,  denying  yourself  necessaries,  have 
saved  up  carefully  the  bread  of  your  old  age  :  go, 
look  for  the  fruits  of  your  labor;   go,  reclaim  it 


LAZARUS  AT   THE   RICH  MAN'S  DOOR.       145 


from  the  stones  of  those  sumptuous  mansions 
which  rise  up  Hke  magic,  from  all  those  splen- 
dors which  dazzle  your  gaze,  from  all  those 
riches,  upon  which  Christ  would  have  poured 
His   anathema  ! 

Is  this  a  romance  I  am  reciting  ?  Is  it  not 
the  real  and  heart-rending  history  of  thousands 
of  unfortunates  ?  And  you  who  hear  me,  are  you 
sure  before  God  who  sees  you,  that  you  are 
strangers,  absolutely  strangers  to  such  iniqui- 
ties ?  Have  you  contributed  to  them  neither 
directly  nor  indirectly  ?  Have  you  discouraged 
them,  and  frowned  upon  them  by  your  firm  stand 
and  your  example  ?  Who  will  do  it,  if  not  Chris- 
tians ?  Who  will  awaken  the  conscience  of  our 
times,  so  careless,  so  tolerant  of  the  evil  which 
is  crowned  with  success  ?  Who  will  call  to 
mind  that  God  reigns,  that  He  reckons  the  suf- 
ferings of  the  poor,  that  He  listens  to  the  groans 
of  the  wronged,  and  that  the  fate  of  the  wicked 
rich  man  of  the  parable  is  a  hundred  times  pref- 
erable to  that  of  the  men  who  have  themselves 
laid  Lazarus  upon  his  bed  of  want  and  deg- 
radation ? 

Thus,  your  first  duty,  my  brethren,  is  to  look 
at   Lazarus,   to  see   his  sufferings   face   to   face, 


146      LAZARUS  AT   THE  RICH  MAN'S  DOOR, 


This  is  not  all.  You  must  do  yet  more.  You 
must  come  near  to  him,  he  must  feel  your  pres- 
ence, he  must  hear  your  voice.  I  have  said  it 
before;  charity  at  a  distance  does  not  suffice; 
besides  it  is  this  sort  of  charity  which  deceives, 
which  encourages  intriguing  vice  adroitly  cov- 
ered with  the  rags  of  poverty.  Nothing  replaces 
the  direct  and  personal  sight  of  those  who  suffer. 
So  the  Gospel  on  every  page  exhorts  us  to  see 
the  poor,  to  comfort  them  directly.  And  what 
exhortation  can  equal  the  admirable  example 
which  Jesus  Christ  has  left  us  .'' 

-Have  you  not  remarked  this  fact,  brief  and 
striking,  which  accompanies  almost  all  the  cures, 
all  the  works  of  mercy  of  our  Saviour.''  "Jesus, 
drawing  nigh,  touched  the  sick,  or  the  leper,  and 
said  to  him,  'Be  ye  healed,  depart  in  peace.'" 
He  touched  him,  and  this  recalls  to  me  an  argu- 
ment which  the  adversaries  of  Christianity  have 
often  adduced: — "Why  does  Jesus,"  say  they, 
"  since,  according  to  the  Scriptures,  He  can  heal 
from  a  distance,  why  does  He  to7ich  the  sick 
with  His  hands  }  What  object  does  He  have,  if 
not  to  act  upon  the  imagination  of  the  people  .-* 
Is  not  this  a  common  characteristic  of  all  im- 
postors .-' "     Singular    objection    from    a    science 


LAZARUS  AT  THE  RICH  MAN'S  DOOR.       147 


which  understands  everything  except  the  in- 
spiration of  charity  !  Jesus  can  heal  at  a  dis- 
tance, but  He  will  not  do  it;  it  pleases  Him  to 
touch  with  His  divine  hand  those  lepers,  those 
unclean,  those  possessed  with  devils,  whom 
every  one  shunned  with  disgust;  and  it  is  just 
here  that  we  recognize  the  miracle  of  miracles, 
that  of  a  charity  that  the  world  does  not  sus- 
pect. Admirable  example  which  we  must  follow, 
my  brethren,  if  we  would  follow  Jesus  Christ. 

I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  sympathy  thus 
understood,  is  half  the  relief  of  those  who  suffer. 
You  must  have  been  struck  with  one  result  which 
always  follows  great  poverty,  and  great  suffering. 
The  unfortunate,  in  proportion  as  he  falls,  thinks 
he  sees  all  society  turn  against  him;  it  seems  to 
him  that  society  excludes  him,  banishes  him  in 
some  sort,  treats  him  as  a  pariah.  There  is  as  it 
were  a  wall  rising  between  him  and  the  rest  of 
mankind.  Hence  those  bitter  accusations  which 
escape  him  against  the  world,  against  society, 
against  the  church,  as  if  the  world,  society,  the 
church,  did  not  contain  beings  who  are  suffering 
like  himself  and  who  themselves  also  are  under- 
going the  same  hallucination  from  grief 

Well,  suppose  that  in  this  bitterness  the  wretch- 


148       LAZARUS  AT   THE   RICH  MAN'S  DOOR. 


ed  man  sees  sitting  at  his  bedside  one  of  the 
favored  ones,  one  of  that  privileged  class  whom 
fate  has  spared;  suppose  that  he  feels  your  hand 
press  his  own,  and  that  he  hears  words  of  sym- 
pathy fall  from  your  lips;  do  you  not  believe  that 
his  bad  dream  will  speedily  vanish  ?  This  is  not 
all.  He  will  learn  perhaps  in  listening  to  you, 
that  grief  can  dwell  too  in  the  hearts  of  those 
who  seem  to  him  happy;  he  will  see  by  your  ha- 
biliments of  mourning  that  fortune  does  not  save 
from  cruel  trials,  and  perhaps  in  this  wounded 
heart  compassion  will  spring  up  toward  you,  at 
the  thought  that  you  also  have  wept. 

Do  you  remember  what  happened  in  England 
some  years  ago  .'*  A  frightful  explosion  swal- 
lowed up  two  hundred  miners;  there,  on  the  brink 
of  the  open  chasm,  their  widows  and  mothers 
stood  wailing,  looking  for  their  dead,  and  asking 
in  anguish  whence  would  come  to  them  their 
morrow's  bread  1  The  bread  came,  it  was  made 
sure  to  them  for  the  future,  and  she  who  sent  it 
had  added  these  words:  "From  a  widow."  A 
widow  !  It  was  the  queen,  but  that  day  she  was 
only  a  widow  to  weep  with  those  who  wept.  The 
queen  !  What,  there  on  that  throne,  in  those 
palaces,   in   the  mi  1st   of  those  riches,  of  those 


LAZARUS  AT  THE  RICH  MAN'S   DOOR. 


149 


splendors,  there  is  a  widow  who  weeps  with  us, 
who  weeps  as  we  do  !  I  venture  to  say  that  it 
is  not  to  the  children  of  those  poor  women  that 
one  could  preach  hatred  or  contempt  for  the 
rich;  and  no  one  knows  how  many  bitter  feelings 
and  revolts,  this  cry,  this  simple  cry  from  the 
heart,  has  checked  and  rendered  forever  impos- 
sible. 

It  is  needful,  then,  that  those  who  suffer  should 
learn  to  know  you.  It  is  needful  for  their  sakes 
and  because  God  orders  it,  and  for  your  own 
good.  You  will  never  know  what  life  ought  to 
be,  so  long  as  you  do  not  look  misery  full  in  the 
face.  There  are  some  things  only  to  be  learned 
which  notwithstanding  one  needs  to  know.  You, 
for  example,  who  rejoice  over  the  birth  of  a  lit- 
tle child,  when  you  shall  have  seen  under  an- 
other roof  than  your  own,  a  child  who  comes 
into  this  world  only  to  be  an  object  of  sadness 
and  painful  anxiety,  and  yet  who,  joyous  and 
trusting,  holds  out  his  little  arms  to  -this  great 
world,  only  to  be  repulsed  by  it;  you  who  mourn 
the  death  of  father  or  mother,  when  you  have 
seen  an  affliction  like  this  of  your  own,  consoled 
with  a  cruel,  cynical  word,  which  only  sees  in  the 
event,    riddance  from   a  burden    which    was   too 


150      LAZARUS  AT  THE  RICH  MAN'S   DOOR. 


heavy;  you  will  learn  what  the  world  is,  and  you 
will  ask  yourself  whether  you  are  permitted  to 
live  here  in  thoughtlessness  and  pleasure,  and 
you  will  know  what  it  is  to  sigh  for  the  reign  of 
justice,  and  of  love. 

This  is  the  lesson  misery  should  teach  us.  Is 
it  understood  }  Alas  !  when  I  see  to-day  by  so 
frightful  a  converse,  the  so-called  higher  classes 
turning  their  eyes,  not  towards  honest  suffering, 
but  towards  vulgar  corruption,  borrowing  from 
it  their  fashions,  their  wiles,  and  even  their  lan- 
guage or,  shall  I  say  it,  their  slang;  I  ask  myself 
what  effect  this  amazing  spectacle  must  have 
upon  the  toiling  suffering  classes,  and  to  what 
nameless  degradation  it  is  leading  them  .''  But 
of  what  use  is  our  indignation,  if  to  the  spread 
of  corruption  we  do  not  oppose  that  of  charity  .'' 
We  must  act,  we  must  descend  into  these  depths, 
we  must  learn  to  look  the  evil  in  the  face  and 
close  at  hand. 

I  know  that  this  contact  is  painful;  there  are 
sights  which  offend  our  delicacy;  extreme  pov- 
erty wounds  our  feelings;  it  takes  a  little  courage 
to  confront  it.  A  dirty,  winding  staircase,  a 
narrow  room  where  the  air  is  close  and  often 
fetid,  and   there  is  that  indescribable  odor  with 


LAZARUS  AT  THE  RICH  MAN'S  DOOR.      151 


which  poverty  impregnates  all  that  it  touches: 
children  in  rags,  a  truckle-bed  where  groans  a 
sick  one,  and  on  the  table  victuals  the  very  sjght 
of  which  is  repugnant, — all  this  is  hard  to  bear: 
and  then,  admit  it,  this  disturbs  and  saddens  us 
by  preaching  to  us  with  a  piercing  voice  the 
necessity  of  sacrifice.  How  can  we  gratify  our 
whims  in  the  face  of  creatures  who  have  not 
even  the  necessaries  of  life.  How  think  of  a 
handsome  toilette  in  face  of  a  wretch  who  has 
not  even  the  luxury  of  a  little  linen  }  How  give 
one's  self  up  to  the  joy  of  a  feast,  when  one 
thinks  of  the  miserable  scraps  which  are  to  sat- 
isfy the  hunger  of  a  whole  family } 

You  are  pained  then  by  such  a  spectacle  and 
in  advance  you  would  escape  it.  But  who  are 
you  to  refuse  to  suffer  }  Is  God's  service  always 
an  easy  thing  .-'  Is  it  by  a  winding  and  sweetly 
shaded  path  that  one  enters  Heaven }  Chris- 
tians whom  God  has  spared  the  persecutions 
and  bloody  sacrifices  He  demanded  of  your  fa- 
thers, do  you  find  your  portion  so  grievous  that 
you  would  remove  from  it  even  the  renuncia- 
tions which  charity  involves  .-'  You  follow  Jesus 
Christ,  but  what  then  is  your  Saviour  .''  In  this 
vague  and  gentle  figure  which  conducts  you  only 


152      LAZARUS  AT   THE   RICH  MAN'S  DOOR. 


over  the  ideal  summits  of  a  poetic  reverie,  I 
recognize  well  the  Christ  which  our  age  has 
formed  after  its  own  image;  but  it  is  no  longer 
the  Man  of  sorrows,  it  is  no  longer  the  Christ 
of  the  publicans  and  the  poor,  it  is  no  longer 
He  who  visited  sorrow  and  vice  as  low  down 
as  He  found  them. 

You  suffer  at  the  contact  with  misery  ?  Ah  ! 
what  is  your  suffering,  I  ask,  in  comparison 
with  that  of  those  who  must  live  and  die  in 
the  atmosphere  which  you  cannot  breathe  an 
instant  without  disgust  ?  If  the  bare  sight  of 
poverty  frightens  you,  what  is  the  condition 
of  those  who  cannot  escape  from  it  a  mo- 
ment ?  You  suffer,  but  to  efface  your  painful 
impressions,  you  have  your  parks,  your  beau- 
tiful groves  in  summer;  your  apartments  and 
your  firesides  with  their  cheerful  blaze  in  winter. 
As  for  them,  they  have  nothing  but  their  four 
walls,  dark  and  bare,  their  attics  either  burning 
hot,  or  freezing  cold,  their  hearth  without  fire, 
the  sight  of  other  wretchedness  equally  repulsive 
groaning  beside  them;  and  besides  on  their  spirit 
the  incessant  and  cruel  anxiety  of  gaining  each 
day  a  livelihood,  without  which,  at  the  first  ap- 
proach of  sickness  this  last  shelter  will  fail  them. 


LAZARUS  AT  THE  RICH  MAN'S  DOOR.      153 


The  sight  of  their  poverty  disgusts  you;  your 
luxury  and  your  increasing  prosperity  hold  you 
so  entangled  in  their  meshes  that  you  cannot 
obey  God's  call  when  He  sends  you  to  the 
wretched.  But  how  will  you  dare  appear  be- 
fore God  and  render  to  Him  an  account  of  your 
task  ?  What  will  you  have  to  answer  if  God 
reject  you  in  turn  ?  Would  you  be  astonished 
that  your  selfishness,  your  cowardice,  your  in- 
dolence should  displease  the  Supreme  Love  ? 
Think  you  that  you  offer  to  Him  a  more  attractive 
sight  than  the  misery  of  the  poor  presents  to  your- 
self? Think  you  that  beneath  the  most  amiable 
exterior,  a  heart  without  charity  is  not  to  the 
eyes  of  the  Sovereign  Judge  an  object  of  just 
abhorrence  ?  Do  you  believe  you  can  justify 
yourself  by  pleading  your  natural  delicacy,  and 
your  instinctive  repugnances?  Answer,  or  rather 
obey  that  secret  voice  which  troubles  you,  im- 
portunes you,  and  cries  to  you  that  there  is  no 
salvation  without  suffering,  no  eternal  happiness 
without  sacrifice. 

Have  I  said  all,  my  brethren,  and  does  it 
suffice  for  the  gaining  of  my  cause  that  I  have 
had  you  face  to  face  with  suffering?  Yes,  if  the 
heart    were    right,    if  it    obeyed    the    instructive 


154      LAZARUS  AT   THE   RICH  MAN'S  DOOR. 


logic  of  devotion  and  of  charity.  But  it  s  not 
so,  and  even  in  presence  of  sorrow,  it  argues,  it 
bargains,  it  disputes  with  love  every  inch  of 
ground.  You  acknowledge  that  the  task  is 
great,  that  it  rests  upon  you,  but  who  knows 
if  at  the  first  call  of  charity,  you  will  not  seal 
your  lips  by  these  simple  words,  "  I  cannot."  I 
cannot  !  I  would  like  to  believe  that  you  would 
not  make  this  answer  with  levity;  and  it  is  not 
with  levity  that  I  would  take  it  up.  No,  I  do 
not  judge  you;  if  before  God,  you  "cannot,"  that 
suffices  me.  I  know  there  is  a  limit  to  all  things, 
I  know  that  liberty  should  be  respected,  and  I 
will  respect  it.  And  what  would  become  of  us, 
I  pray  you,  without  that  mutual  respect  which 
the  Gospel  enjoins  .-'  What  would  become  of  us 
if  the  spirit  of  judgment,  under  pretext  of  charity, 
should  take  free  course  and  assess  the  devotion 
of  each  person  } 

I  will  respect  your  answer,  but  may  I  en- 
treat you  to  inquire  before  making  it,  whether 
it  be  sincere  and  serious.-'  You  cannot!  And 
why  can  you  not  .-*  Is  it  not  because  the  world 
has  usurped  all,  even  the  poor's  portion  .■'  Is 
it  not  that  you  too  have  yielded  to  this  tide 
of  lu.xury   which    presently  nothing  will  be  able 


LAZARUS  AT  THE  RICH  MAN'S  DOOR.       155 


to  stay  ?  Ah  !  my  brethren,  it  is  to  the  world 
you  must  say,  "  I  cannot."  You  must  say  it 
firmly,  courageously,  when  it  demands  those  use- 
less expenditures,  those  extravagances  in  dress 
or  furniture,  those  delicate  refinements  which 
your  vanity  so  readily  has  yielded  to  it.  What 
would  you  lose  by  such  an  answer.''  A  tri- 
umph of  self-love,  which,  in  exciting  the  envy 
of  others,  would  only  have  contracted  your 
own  heart.  Suppose  even  that  you  should  be 
condemned,  accused  of  rigidness,  could  you  not 
accept  that  }  Shall  there  then  be  no  longer 
anything  to  distinguish  a  Christian  home  from 
a  worldly  one,  and  must  one  make  up  his  mind 
to  see  those  who  profess  religion  following  with 
docility  the  bent  of  a  world  whose  approbation 
is  a  snare,  and  its  applause  a  danger .'' 

But,  for  not  having  dared  say  it  to  the 
world,  see  yourselves  forced  to  say  it  to  your 
Saviour.  It  is  to  your  Saviour  that  you  re- 
ply, "I  cannot";  to  your  Saviour  whose  king- 
dom advances  but  slowly,  and  whose  poor  mem- 
bers are  neglected.  It  is  for  your  Saviour  that 
you  reserve  the  courage  of  a  refusal.  Ah  ! 
Him  you  do  not  fear  to  grieve.  His  appro- 
bation.    His    blame,    what    is    it    all    to    you  ? 


1^6      LAZARUS  AT   THE  RICH  MAN'S  DOOR. 


True,  He  redeemed  you  with  the  price  of  an 
unspeakable  suffering;  true,  He  comes  to  you 
with  His  crown  of  thorns,  with  His  pierced  feet 
and  hands;  true,  in  your  last  hour,  when  the 
world  will  have  nothing  more  to  say  to  you, 
you  will  call  on  Him  that  you  may  cross  the 
dark  valley  and  appear  with  Him  before  the 
eternal  tribunal.  Never  mind  !  to-day,  after  hav- 
ing taken  the  world's  part,  you  coldly  say  to 
Him,  "There  is  nothing  left  me  for  Thee!" 

I  do  not  wish  to  close,  my  brethren,  without 
exposing  a  fallacy,  under  which  it  is  the  fash- 
ion now  to  screen  luxury  and  worldliness.  They 
say  to  us,  "  Rather  than  give  to  the  poor,  let  us 
spend  and  enjoy.  Your  luxury  gives  the  work 
of  the  people,  and  your  expenditures  are  their 
profit.  The  more  you  envelop  yourself  in  mag- 
nificent fabrics,  the  more  your  table  is  laden 
with  delicacies,  the  more  your  house  is  deco- 
rated, the  more  hands  will  be  employed;  and 
the  more  families  saved  from  poverty."  Charm- 
ing remedy,  admirable  process  which  one  does 
not  always  dare  avow,  but  with  which  one  often 
eases  his  conscience  when  it  is  a  question 
of  yielding  to  his  tastes  and  satisfying  his 
fancies. 


LAZARUS  AT  THE  RICH  MAN'S  DOOR.       1 57 


Well  then  !  is  this  excuse  true,  is  it  well- 
founded  ?     This  remains  for  me  to  examine. 

When  it  is  wished  tq  test  the  truth  of  a  prin- 
ciple, there  is  nothing,  my  brethren,  like  pushing 
it  to  the  end.  You  say  that  luxury  is  the  sal- 
vation of  poverty.  Well,  if  you  are  right,  spend, 
keep  on  spending,  indulge  in  senseless  fan- 
cies, invent  new  pleasures  and  endless  luxuries. 
Apostles  of  a  new  charity,  to  the  work,  to  the 
work  of  redeeming  humanity  !  Ah  1  what  a 
convenient  religion,  and  which  responds  to  the 
secret  instincts  of  our  nature  !  How  well  it 
will  be  received  everywhere  !  Away  with  that 
gloomy  piety  which  preaches  sacrifice  and  self- 
denial  !  Luxury,  ever  luxury,  and  always  more, 
— and  when  we  shall  swim  in  an  opulence  with 
which  Rome  and  Babylon  had  nothing  to  com- 
pare, the  people  saved  by  you  will  never  know 
suffering,  and  paradise  will  commence  on  earth. 

You  smile,  my  brethren,  and  yet  take  care. 
If  the  principle  which  is  proposed  to  us  is  true, 
here  is  the  direct  and  legitimate  conclusion 
which  we  must  draw  from  it;  but,  if  this  con- 
clusion is  absurd  and  cruel,  must  we  not  con- 
clude the  absurdity  of  the  principle  ?  Good 
sense  together  with  experience,  has  it  not   long 


Is8      LAZARUS  AT  THE   RICH  MAN'S  DOOR. 


taught  that  the  extravagances  of  luxury  are 
absolutely"  unproductive,  that  the  more  the  liv- 
ing forces  are  devoted  to  the  creation  of  the  su- 
perfluous, the  less  of  them  will  there  be  left  for 
the  production  of  the  necessary?  When  you  have 
drawn  away  from  our  fields  a  hundred  thousand 
workmen,  to  throw  them  into  your  carpenter 
shops  to  build  your  palaces,  or  into  the  factories 
where  your  magnificent  fabrics  are  made,  is  it 
not  certain  that  for  an  unproductive  luxury  you 
have  greatly  diminished  the  product  of  your 
country's  soil  ?  When  you  have  transformed  the 
lumps  of  gold  into  jewelry  and  delicate  orna- 
ments, is  it  not  certain  that  you  have  not  in- 
creased by  one  grain  the  capital  which  supports 
humanity?  Then  your  principle  is  false;  false 
and  cruel,  for  it  will  have  famine  for  its  ultimate 
consequence.  One  will  see  something  of  it  on 
the   first  occasion  of  a  social  disturbance. 

When  under  the  menace  of  an  unexpected 
crisis,  all  these  fictitious  values  fall  in  the  twinkle 
of  an  eye, — what  will  become  of  those  thou- 
sands of  men  taken  by  your  luxury  from  the 
vigorous,  healthful  work  of  the  fields  ?  Thrown 
into  the  streets  of  your  great  cities,  accustomed 
to   an   easy  gain   and    an   easy  expenditure   too, 


LAZARUS  AT  THE  RICH  MAN'S  DOOR.       159 


they  will  only  be  a  peril  to  you;  so  much  the 
more  formidable  from  having  witnessed  your 
mad  luxury,  envy  and  hatred  will  fill  their  hearts 
at  the  sight  of  their  own  poverty. 

That  is  not  all.  Not  only  is  this  principle  cruel, 
but  it  is  immoral.  Immoral  for  you,  for  luxury 
after  all  is  pleasure;  and  unrestrained  pleasure, 
though  refined  as  you  idly  call  it,  is  the  degrada- 
tion of  the  soul  and  the  will;  it  is  the  gratifica- 
tion of  selfishness,  and  consequently  the  harden- 
ing of  the  heart.  Immoral  for  others,  to  whom 
your  example  is  a  lesson.  At  your  side  the 
working  man,  a  witness  of  your  life,  will  also 
say  to  himself,  "Why  do  I  not  enjoy  myself. -^ 
Why  impose  on  me  the  severe  and  cruel  law 
of  renunciation  }  "  And  he  will  enjoy,  and  he 
will  waste  his  daily  pittance  upon  his  coarse 
pleasures.  Instead  of  your  refined  pleasures  he 
will  have  the  vulgar  pleasures  of  the  cellar  and 
the   tavern.     I   defy  you   to   prevent   this   result. 

Suppose  it  goes  further.  Soon  the  dregs  of  a 
disturbed  society  will  be  thrown  up,  and  like  the 
sound  of  a  tempest,  the  voice  of  a  vast  people 
I  will  say  to  you,  "To  enjoy,  that  is  the  right 
of  all  !  You  Christians  point  me  to  Paradise  in 
the  sky,  but  you  lie,  for  I  have  seen  you,  your- 


l6o     LAZARUS  AT  THE  RICH  MAN'S  DOOR. 


selves,  look  for  it  only  on  earth.  I  have  seen 
you,  religious  men,  enjoy  here  below  all  the 
pleasures,  all  the  luxuries  that  my  work  can  fur- 
nish you.  Very  well  !  my  paradise,  I  want  it  also 
on  the  earth.  I  want  it  to-morrow,  to-day.  Long 
enough  have  you  shown  me  a  heaven  beyond  the 
tomb,  but  science  has  taught  me,  and  it  is  not  for 
an  unknowable  nothing  that  I  want  to  spend  my 
sweat  and  my  tears.  I  am  weary  of  waiting,  I 
must  have  happiness.  I  must  have  it  in  this  life 
where  I  have  known  nothing  but  deprivations. 
My  happiness  too  is  luxury,  is  wealth,  is  pleas- 
ure; all  the  fruits  of  the  earth  were  given  to  me, 
as  well  as  to  you.  My  happiness,  it  is  there  be- 
fore me;  to  take  it  I  have  but  to  will  it.  Woe 
to  him  who  would  stop  me  !  Woe  to  him  who 
puts  himself  in  my  way  !  To  enjoy  is  the  dearest 
word  of  life;  I  want  to  enjoy,  I  will  enjoy,  because 
I  call  myself  legion;  on  my  stout  arms  I  carry 
the  whole  of  society.  With  one  blow  from  my 
shoulder,  on  the  day  chosen,  I  will  overturn  it  !  " 
This  is  what  will  be  said,  my  brethren,  if  it  is 
true  that  the  pleasures  of  some  redeem  the  mis- 
ery of  others.  From  this  terrible  logic  you  can- 
not escape.  May  God  spare  our  country  from 
such  a  frisfhtful  demonstration  ! 


LAZARUS  AT   THE  RICH  MAN'S  DOOR.       i')! 


But  surely  it  is  not  upon  such  arguments  that 
I  would  ever  depend  for  moving  you.  If  fear 
alone  must  urge  you  on  to  good,  I  would  rather 
descend  from  this  pulpit  where  the  Gospel  has 
sought  to  make  us  hear  another  language,  more 
elevated,  more  worthy  of  God  and  of  yourselves. 
To  assuage  misery,  I  will  offer  to  you,  to-morrow 
as  to-day,  but  the  one  remedy, — that  is,  the  spirit 
of  Christ,  that  spirit  which  is  at  once  justice  and 
charity.  To  work,  my  brethren,  in  this  spirit  ! 
To  work,  to-day,  to-morrow,  always,  as  long  as 
there  shall  be  on  earth  a  misery  to  relieve,  a 
suffering  to  console  !     Amen. 


VIL 


VIL 

Eijc   $la^0    ©ncstmus* 

Epistle  of  St.  Paul  to  Philemon. 

It  is  a  sad  study  for  historians  to  penetrate 
the  inner  life  of  great  men.  There  are  few  lives 
which  can  bear  a  close  inspection.  A  writer,  for 
example,  has  received  from  God  the  most  won- 
derful gifts;  his  imagination  thrills  at  all  great 
and  noble  ideas,  and  what  his  beating  heart  has 
grasped,  his  lips  or  his  pen  translate  into  lan- 
guage which  penetrates  you  and  wrings  from 
you  a  cry  of  enthusiasm.  The  man  has  just 
died,  and  in  a  private  journal,  or  some  forgotten 
page,  you  come  upon  his  thoughts  and  his  secret 
studies.  Ah  !  do  not  read  them  if  you  would 
preserve  your  illusion  intact.  Yes,  that  great 
soul  of  an  artist,  vanity  was  consuming  it,  and 
while  its  inspirations  were  transporting  you  to 
the  sky,  it  was  the  prey  to  incredible  jealousies, 


l66  THE    SLAVE    ONE  SIM  US. 


to  mean  struggles,  to  petty  schemes  which 
astound  you.  This  savant,  this  cold  quiet  spir- 
it, whose  thoughts  free,  it  might  seem,  from 
vulgar  interests,  dwelt  in  the  serene  regions  of 
the  laws  of  nature,  was  pursuing  in  reality  here 
on  earth,  his  plans  of  selfish  ambition  and  his 
rivalries  of  school  and  of  party.  History  is  full 
of  these  sad  contrasts,  and  he  who  knows  it  in- 
timately must  take  pains  with  himself  to  main- 
tain his  respect  for  humanity. 

I  read,  for  example,  the  funeral  orations  of 
Bossuet,  and  that  last  discourse  in  which  he  an- 
nounces that,  warned  by  his  gray  hairs  of  the 
account  which  he  must  render,  he  desires  to 
reserve  "  for  the  flock  which  he  must  feed  with 
the  word  of  life,  the  remains  of  a  v^oice  Avhich  is 
failing,  and  of  an  ardor  which  is  dying  out."  I 
am  moved  by  this  noble  old  age,  and  by  this 
grand  voice  which  with  such  authority  con- 
trasts the  eternal  realities  with  the  splendors 
of  the  century  which  is  about  to  close.  Then  I 
open  the  journal  where  are  faithfully  recorded 
the  minutest  details  of  the  close  of  his  life,  and 
I  see  Bossuet  exhausted  by  sickness,  multiply- 
ing his  efforts  and  his  measures  for  the  pro- 
motion to  the  episcopacy  of  his  nephew,  one  of 


THE    SLAVE    ONESIMUS.  167 


the  lowest  characters  of  those  times, — skilfully 
managing  the  Jesuits  for  whom  he  had  a  pro- 
found aversion,  and  trying  to  gain  strength  that 
he  might  be  able  to  climb  the  steps  at  Ver- 
sailles and  to  plead  the  sad  cause  before  the 
king/ 

A  half  century  elapses.  Behold  the  great 
adversary  of  Christianity,  the  man  whose  ter- 
rible laugh  announces  the  fall  of  a  religion 
which  he  accuses  of  all  the  infamies  committed 
in  its  name,  the  man  who  denounces  with  a 
burning  micrciless  satire  the  corruptions  of  the 
Church  policy.  Voltaire  dies,  and  in  his  private 
letters  I  find,  in  his  attempt  to  crush  his  adver- 
saries, a  lack  of  principle,  a  disposition  for  in- 
trigue, an  adroitness  in  plotting,  a  boldness  in 
lying  which  knows  no  equal.  By  the  side  of 
Voltaire  see  a  writer  whose  frankness  moves 
and  attracts  you;  he  declares  himself  the  disci- 
ple of  nature  and  of  the  natural  sentiments;  he 
accuses  Christianity  of  having  slandered  human- 

1  "  In  going  up  and  down  the  terraces  of  the  Tuileries  he  tells  us 
that  he  tested  his  strength  by  the  gentle  slopes  for  the  purpose  of  ac- 
customing himself  to  going  up  and  down — m  order  to  be  in  condition 
for  entering  into  the  presence  of  the  king."  Jourjial  of  the  Abbé  Le 
Dien.    October,  1708. 


1 68  THE    SLAVE    ONESTMUS. 


ity  and  in  order  to  combat  its  withering  influ- 
ence, he  seeks,  on  the  stage  and  elsewhere,  to 
show  the  generous  emotions  of  the  heart  guided 
solely  by  the  inspirations  of  its  innate  goodness. 
This  man  was  Diderot,  but  his  correspondence 
exists,  and  I  read  therein  fearful  words.  He  asks 
of  Alembert  if,  putting  rhetoric  aside,  there  is  a 
man  who  would  not  rather  lose  a  daughter  than 
his  fortune.  Near  to  him  is  Rousseau;  he  also, 
listening  always  to  the  voice  of  nature  only, 
sought  to  reform  the  education  of  the  human 
race,  but  he  has  written  his  confessions,  and  we 
read  there  that  this  great  educator  of  humanity 
began  by  sending  his  own  children  to  an  asylum 
to  get  rid  of  them. 

The  end  of  the  century  comes.  The  greatest 
of  modern  tribunes  makes  the  National  Assem- 
bly of  Versailles  ring  with  his  thundering  voice 
against  the  corruptions  and  the  venalities  of  the 
old  régime,  and,  accused  one  day  of  betraying 
his  cause,  he  vindicates  himself  in  a  splendid  dis- 
course which  silenced  his  detractors.  To-day  we 
know  that  at  the  very  time  he  was  thus  speak- 
ing, Mirabeau  was  sold.  I  could  multiply  these 
examples  and  ask  you  what  under  the  first  em- 
pire became  of  those  many  savage  Jacobins  to 


THE    SLAVE    ONESIMUS.  169 


whom  the  one  word  royalty  seemed  an  outrage 
upon  the  Hberty  of  the  people. 

But  I  have  said  enough,  too  much  perhaps. 
Why  do  I  recall  these  heart-rending  facts }  In 
the  interest  of  a  party  .-•  Alas  !  in  looking  at 
them  closely  one  could  find  at  need,  similar  dis- 
closures in  all  parties.  To  insult  human  nature  .'' 
God  forbid  !  I  have  wished  simply  to  remind 
you  that  we  must  always  distrust  appearances 
and  go  to  the  bottom  of  things.  Do  you  wish 
to  judge  a  man,  to  know  if  he  is  worthy  of  your 
confidence  .''  Do  not  study  him  in  public  only, 
and  when  all  eyes  are  upon  him,  when  he  is 
discharging  his  mission,  sustaining  his  part.  A 
glance  at  his  inner  life,  the  sight  of  one  of  his 
acts  done  in  silence  will  reveal  him  better  to  you. 

These  reflections  have  come  to  mind  in  medi- 
tating on  my  text.  This  text  is  a  letter  of  St. 
Paul,  the  shortest  that  he  has  written  since  it  is 
contained  in  a  few  lines.  On  this  page,  written 
as  it  were  incidentally,  we  no  longer  have  to 
do  with  the  teacher  of  the  Gentiles,  with  the 
theologian,  with  the  founder  of  our  churches  of 
Europe,  we  have  simply  before  us  a  man  writing 
to  one  of  his  friends.  Now  I  have  thought  that 
this  would  be  a  striking  opportunity  of  studying 


I70  THE    SLAVE    ONESIMUS. 


the  character  of  St.  Paul,  and  of  taking  him 
as  it  were  unawares  and  in  his  true  light.  This 
then  is  the  study,  my  brethren,  to  which  I  invite 
3'ou  to-day. 

One  day  in  a  dark  dungeon  in  Rome  two  pris- 
oners met.  One  is  Paul,  a  Roman  citizen,  son  of 
a  Pharisee,  whose  words  had  stirred  Asia  and 
Jerusalem,  and  who  had  come  to  the  capital  of 
the  world  to  answer  at  the  tribunal  of  Caisar  for 
having  incited  the  fanaticism  of  his  compatriots. 
The  other  is  a  pagan,  a  slave  named  Onesimus, 
who,  after  having  cheated  his  master,  fled  and 
sought  refuge  in  the  great  city  where  he  was 
arrested.  Paul  converted  the  slave  to  the  Chris- 
tian faith,  and  when  the  doors  of  the  prison 
opened  to  Onesimus  the  apostle  who  remained 
imprisoned,  sent  him  back  to  his  master,  Phile- 
mon, with  the  letter  which  I  have  read  to  you. 
Such  a  fact  seems  to  you  very  simple,  but  per- 
haps you  will  change  your  mind  in  examining  it 
more  closely. 

Do  you  know  what  a  slave  was  at  that  time  } 
Let  us  speak  of  it  coolly,  or  rather  let  us  permit 
the  men  of  those  times  to  speak.  Thirty  years 
before  Jesus  Christ,  a  Roman  savant  named 
Varron   classified  the  implements   of  labor  into 


THE    SLAVE    ONESIMUS.  171 


three  categories:  "the  dumb  implements,  to  wit, 
the  tool  and  the  plough;  those  which  utter  in- 
articulate sounds,  the  ox  and  the  horse;  those 
which  speak,  the  slaves."  Long  before  him  the 
great  Aristotle  had  said,  "  How  can  one  love 
slaves  ?  Can  one  have  affection  for  base  tools  ?  " 
They  were,  as  a  matter  of  course,  sold,  lent, 
given,  bequeathed.  When  old,  they  were  ex- 
posed on  an  island  in  the  Tiber,  where  they 
often  died  of  starvation.  The  Roman  law,  that 
ideal  type  of  right  in  the  ancient  world,  punished 
with  the  same  penalty  the  killing  a  slave  and  a 
beast  of  burden.  If  a  master  was  assassinated 
by  one  of  his  slaves  all  of  his  companions  in  ser- 
vice had  to  be  tortured  with  him. 

A  Roman,  hunting  one  day,  was  about  to  kill 
a  wild  boar,  when  a  javelin  thrown  by  one  of  his 
slaves  struck  the  animal;  exasperated  at  having 
been  outdone,  he  had  the  slave  crucified.  Cicero, 
that  enlightened  and  liberal  spirit,  witness  of  the 
fact  and  who  relates  it  to  us,  asks  himself  whether 
perhaps  such  conduct  would  not  be  found  some- 
what severe.  At  any  rate,  this  same  Cicero 
apologized  for  feeling  some  regret  at  the  loss 
of  an  old  slave;  to-day  we  would  hesitate  less 
to  say  that  we  regret  an  old  dog.     At  all  times 


172  THE    SLAVE    ONESIMUS. 


the  master  had  over  slaves  the  power  of  life  and 
death,  and  often,  after  a  feast,  they  were  put  to 
death  for  the  amusement  of  the  guests.  Certain 
sages  advised,  it  is  true,  to  be  sparing  of  blows 
upon  them,  but  this  was,  they  added,  to  preserve 
them  longer.  Indeed  the  contempt  with  which 
they  were  regarded  was  such,  that  five  centuries 
after  Jesus  Christ,  the  philosopher  Macrobius, 
certainly  a  high-minded  man,  wrote  that  the 
true  sage  dishonors  himself  in  speaking  with  a 
slave. 

It  was  one  of  these  miserable  creatures  that 
Paul  met  at  Rome  in  his  prison.  You  know 
what  was  the  nature  of  Paul — a  Pharisee,  the  son 
of  a  Pharisee,  violent  by  temperament,  harsh 
and  persecuting.  The  first  time  he  is  mentioned 
in  the  Scriptures,  is  at  the  death  of  Stephen, 
and,  too  young  yet  perhaps  to  be  his  execu- 
tioner, he  watches  the  garments  of  those  who 
stone  him. 

See  then,  face  to  face,  the  slave  and  the  former 
Pharisee.  What  have  they  to  say  to  each  other.»* 
Answer  me,  you  who  do  not  believe  in  Chris- 
tianity. What  would  they  have  done  if  the  Gos- 
pel had  not  been  there  }  Ah  !  you  do  not  like 
miracles,  and  you  think  it  strange  that  we  speak 


THE    SLAVE    ONESIMUS.  173 


of  a  revelation  from  on  high.  I  will  show  you 
in  this  Roman  prison  a  fact  which  nature  will 
never  explain.  I  will  show  you  this  Pharisee, 
transformed,  feeling  for  this  slave  a  deep  com- 
passion; I  will  show  him  to  you  all  absorbed  in 
the  fate  of  this  wretched  creature,  upon  whom 
no  other  at  that  time,  even  among  the  best, 
would  have  deigned  to  cast  a  look,  discovering 
an  immortal  soul  in  that  creature  crushed  under 
the  universal  contempt,  instructing  him,  raising 
him  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  loving  him, — O 
marvel  ! — loving  him  to  the  point  of  calling  him 
brother,  a  cherished  brother,  his  own  son,  the 
son  of  his  loins,  and  as  if  this  were  not  enough, 
an  other  self 

Ah  !  you  do  not  want  miracles.  Explain  to 
me  then  this  transformation.  Tell  me  whence 
came  this  extraordinary  power  which  all  at  once 
made  to  spring  up  in  the  soul  of  one  of  those 
Jews,  whom  Tacitus  called  the  enemies  of  the 
human  race,  a  charity  so  amazing.  We  Chris- 
tians know  it;  it  is  Jesus  Christ  who,  in  re- 
deeming by  His  blood  both  Pharisee  and  slave, 
embraced  them  in  the  same  love  and  calls 
them  to  the  same  heaven;  it  is  Jesus  Christ 
who   made   them   heirs   to   the   same   faith   and 


174  THE    SLAVE    ONESTMUS. 


the  same  hope;  it  is  Jesus  Christ  who  made  them 
kneel  together  under  the  same  benediction  in 
that  prison  changed  by  them  into  a  sanctuary, 
and  where  for  the  first  time,  celebrating  the 
communion  of  saints,  they  illustrate  the  family  of 
the  redeemed  come  from  every  tribe,  language 
and  nation,  and  which  was  to  gather  under  the 
sceptre  of  the  Prince  of  Peace.  Arise,  Onesimus, 
take  up  again  thy  chains;  go,  if  need  be,  to  suffer 
and  serve  again;  thou  bearest  on  thy  forehead 
a  halo,  and  in  thy  heart  a  memory  which 
nothing  will  efface.  There  was  found  here  on 
earth  a  man  who  called  thee  his  brother  and 
who  begat  thee  to  life  eternal.  Arms  were 
opened  to  welcome  thee,  a  heart  did  beat 
against  thine.  Go,  bear  to  this  world,  which  is 
ignorant  of  it,  the  news  of  that  strange  love,  go 
show  to  those  despots  plunged  in  the  slavery  of 
the  flesh,  a  soul  emancipated  from  corruption  and 
sin;  go,  poor  slave,  to  fulfil  the  great  mission 
which  awaits  thee  ! 

It  is  thus,  my  brethren,  that  the  dignity  of  man 
has  been  found  again.  His  dignity  !  Is  that 
enough  .-*  No,  for  as  to  this  slave,  St.  Paul  not 
only  made  a  man  of  him,  but  by  another  mira- 
cle he  made  of  him  a  loving  heart.     He  taught 


THE    SLAVE    ONE  S/MUS. 


him  to  love  his  master,  and,  of  all  victories 
the  most  extraordinary,  he  taught  him  to  serve 
him  in  loving  him.  Ah  !  that  astonishes  you 
and  repels  you,  perhaps,  and  you  would  have 
liked  it  better  if  in  giving  him  moral  liberty, 
he  had  taught  him  rebellion.  This  is  the  re- 
proach one  casts  upon  Christianity  to-day;  weak 
doctrine,  say  they,  feeble  doctrine  which  has  not 
sought  to  break  the  fetters  of  the  slaves,  which 
has  not  known  how  to  raise  up  the  oppressed. 
I  hear  the  accusation  and  accept  it,  but  with  this 
reservation,  that  where  you  see  feebleness,  I  see  a 
divine  energy  which  man  had  never  possessed 
by  nature. 

You  can  only  recognize  power  in  revolt,  and 
you  cannot  discover  it  in  that  admirable  patience 
which  will  tire  out  the  tormentors.  Well,  let  us 
suppose  for  a  moment  your  dreams  realized. 
Servile  war  is  proclaimed.  The  Gospel  calls  all 
the  oppressed  to  a  vast  insurrection;  the  throne 
of  the  Caesars  totters,  the  blood  of  patricians  and 
of  priests  flows  in  torrents;  vengeance  and  envy 
follow  without  truce  their  exterminating  work, 
and  the  old  world  is  engulfed  in  a  frightful 
massacre.  What  is  to  come  of  it  .-*  The  reign  of 
fraternity }     Be    not   deceived  !      Hatred    begets 


176  THE    SLAVE    ONESIMUS. 


hatred,  blood  causes  blood  to  flow.  If  that  is 
your  ideal,  it  is  not  that  of  the  God  of  the  Gospel; 
He  wished  to  give  to  men  another  spectacle;  that 
of  love  victorious  over  hatred,  that  of  mind  vic- 
torious over  force,  that  of  a  crucified  King  of 
souls  and  of  the  world.  "When  I  have  been 
lifted  up  from  the  earth,  I  will  draw  all  men 
unto  me." 

Here  is  the  first  lesson  that  I  find  in  my  text. 
Another  feature  strikes  me;  it  is  the  manner  in 
which  St.  Paul  interposes  with  Philemon,  in  order 
to  plead  the  cause  of  his  unfaithful  slave.  I  am 
not  sure  that  I  know  another  example  of  deli- 
cacy more  exquisite,  more  ingenious,  more  in- 
sinuating, shall  I  say,  and  all  the  more  remark- 
able because  here  all  is  true,  and  no  flattery  is 
mingled  with  it. 

First,  see  with  what  care  the  Apostle  appeals 
to  everything  which  can  dispose  Philemon  favor- 
ably toward  the  culprit.  Philemon  is  a  Chris- 
tian; St.  Paul  recalls  to  him  his  faith,  his  charity 
well  known  to  all  his  brethren;  he  writes  to  him, 
persuaded  that  Philemon  will  himself  do  more 
than  he  asks  of  him.  See  with  what  a  noble 
tone  the  Apostle  avoids  imposing  upon  him  his 
will.     "Wherefore,"  he  says  to  him,  "though  I 


THE    SLAVE    ONESIMUS.  177 


might  be  much  bold  in  Christ  to  enjoin  thee 
that  which  is  convenient,  yet  for  love's  sake  I 
beseech  thee,  being  such  a  one  as  Paul  the 
aged,  and  now  also  a  prisoner  of  Jesus  Christ." 
Paul  the  aged  and  prisoner  of  Jesus  Christ  ! 
What  a  climax,  my  brethren,  and  what  pene- 
trating eloquence  in  those  three  simple  words  ! 
The  Apostle  wishes  to  do  nothing  without  the 
consent  of  Philemon,  "  that  thy  benefit  should 
not  be  as  it  were  of  necessity,  but  willingly." 
"  Yea,  my  brother,"  he  adds,  "  let  me  have  joy 
of  thee  in  the  Lord;  refresh  my  bowels  in  the 
Lord." 

I  have  recalled  already  the  terms  in  which 
he  spoke  of  Onesimus  and  how  the  tenderest 
epithets  fell  from  his  pen;  but  that  is  not  all. 
Onesimus  had  been  guilty  of  unfaithfulness,  of 
desertion  of  his  master.  Now  have  you  noticed 
with  what  tact  St.  Paul  recalls  this  fact,  avoid- 
ing everything  which  might  exaggerate  his  of- 
fence, contrasting  his  present  conduct  with  his 
past  conduct .''  "  He  was  formerly  useless  to 
thee,  but  now  he  will  be  to  thee  of  great  use."' 

I  There  is  here  a  play  upon  words  full  of  delicacy  and  untrans- 
latable in  French.  Onesimus  is  a  Greek  adjective  which  means 
useful. 


178  THE    SLAVE    ONESIMUS. 


Is  there  not  here  the  tone  of  the  Master  ex- 
tending His  hand  to  Mary  who  weeps  at  His  feet, 
and  saying  to  those  who  accuse  her,  "  Why 
trouble  ye  her  ?  " 

And  further  on  listen  to  these  words:  "  If  he 
hath  wronged  thee,  or  oweth  thee  aught,  put 
that  on  my  account.  I  will  repay  it."  But  one 
must  quote  the  whole  of  this  page,  one  must 
weigh  each  of  these  words  where  grace,  tact, 
and  nobleness  of  feeling  have  found  an  expres- 
sion so  delicate.  And  all  this  written  by  a  Jew, 
by  a  former  persecutor,  in  favor  of  one  of  those 
slaves  of  whom  Roman  wisdom  said  that  it  was 
degrading  to  speak  with  them  ! 

Christian  hearers,  what  do  you  think  of  such 
love  as  this  .''  Up  to  this  time  you  have  per- 
haps only  seen  in  St.  Paul  the  teacher,  who 
crushes  human  nature  beneath  his  inexorable 
logic.  The  language  of  his  epistles,  at  once 
harsh  and  mystic,  astonished  without  attracting 
you,  and  you  did  not  observe  there,  as  in  so 
many  passages  in  detail  of  his  letters,  a  heart 
glowing  and  sensitive,  with  attachments  so  keen, 
with  emotions  so  profound.  In  a  word,  you  did 
not  know  St.  Paul.  It  was  the  fidelity,  the  con- 
suming zeal   which   were  presented   to  you,  but 


THE    SLAVE    ONE  SI  MUS.  179 


you  would  not  have  believed  it  possible  to  find 
in  him  what  is  most  tender  and  touching  in 
charity.  You  would  never  have  expected  fi-om 
his  vigorous  pen  those  delicate  considerations, 
those  respectful  courtesies,  that  wonderful  re- 
gard for  the  liberty  of  others,  that  profound  in- 
tuition of  all  that  can  move  a  soul,  those  tones 
at  the  same  time  so  elevated  and  so  pathetic. 
See  what  grace  has  done,  and  yet  we  are  told 
that  Christianity  impoverishes  human  nature, 
dulls  the  feelings  and  weakens  the  affections, 
and  I  see  noble  hearts  who  will  not  cross  the 
threshold  because,  deceived  by  the  too  frequent 
spectacle  of  a  religion  dry,  cold,  and  without 
compassion,  they  tremble  before  a  sacrifice  which 
will  leave  their  life  sad  and  despoiled.  Sad  pre- 
judice too  prevalent  among  us  ! 

No,  Christianity  is  not  contrary  to  nature,  I 
mean  to  our  essential  and  primitive  nature,  which 
on  the  contrary  it  seeks  to  restore  and  enlarge. 
That  which  it  condemns,  is  our  fallen  and  per- 
verted nature,  such  as  sin  has  made  it,  or  rather 
has  unmade  it.  The  Gospel,  that  truth  of  God 
revealed  to  man,  indicates  itself  in  this,  that  it 
is  just  as  human  as  divine.  It  makes  alliance 
with   normal  humanity  against  fallen  humanity, 


l8o  THE    SLAVE    ONESIMUS. 


with  man  such  as  he  should  be  against  man 
such  as  he  is/  You  have  only  seen  that  which 
it  takes  from  you,  see  then  what  it  gives  you; 
see,  under  its  fruitful  breath,  the  regenerated 
heart  expanding  into  a  new  life;  see  in  place 
of  selfishness,  which  is  the  bottom  foundation  of 
guilty  passion,  the  charity  which  sacrifices  itself; 
see  this  boundless  world  of  devotion,  a  world 
with  immense  horizons,  with  limitless  perspec- 
tives, because  it  is  already  heaven  lived  on  earth. 
See,  in  a  word,  the  heart  of  St.  Paul, — in  an  age 
when  everything  congeals,  and  notwithstanding 
the  bitter  delusions  of  a  life  the  most  tried, — 
evermore  large,  more  loving,  more  charitable, 
like  a  river  which  ever  widens  in  its  course,  and 
whose  current  is  rendered  all  the  more  impet- 
uous by  the  very  obstacles  thrown  up  in  its 
way. 

Thirdly,  what  strikes  me  again  in  this  epistle, 
is  that  it  gives  us,  as  it  seems  to  me,  the  secret 
of  the  wonderful  ministry  and  of  the  great  suc- 
cess of  St.  Paul. 

Have  you  rcfiected  upon  it  .'^  It  is  St.  Paul, 
the  heroic  worker,  laden  with  the  burden  of  so 
many  souls  he  has  converted,  so  many  churches 
»  A  Monod. 


THE    SLAVE    ONESIMUS.  i8l 


he  has  founded,  St.  Paul  pursuing  even  in  his 
captivity,  by  letters  and  by  interviews  with  those 
.who  visit  him,  his  victorious  work;  it  is  he  who 
finds  the  time  and  the  means  of  instructing  this 
slave,  of  loving  him,  of  converting  him  to  Jesus 
Christ.  I  spoke  in  the  beginning  of  the  decep- 
tions which  the  life  of  men  who  play  a  great 
part  in  the  world,  too  often  occasion  when 
we  look  at  them  closely.  But  is  it  not  true 
that  here  St.  Paul  becomes  greater  in  our  eyes, 
and  that  his  exhortations,  his  appeals  to  the 
churches,  acquire  a  new  power  when  we  see 
him  thus,  in  secret,  in  the  shade  concentrating 
upon  a  poor  and  ignorant  soul  all  the  treasures 
of  his  intelligence  and  of  his  solicitude .''  As 
long  as  you  had  before  you  the  public  man,  you 
could  imagine  that  ambition  mingled  with  his 
zeal,  legitimate  without  doubt,  but  after  all  un- 
worthy the  founder  of  churches,  w^ho  finds  his 
recompense  in  his  success;  you  could  believe  him 
stirred  sometimes  and  excited  by  the  mere  earth- 
ly glory  of  his  apostleship.  But  where  is  the 
glory,  here;  where  the  success,  where  the  rec- 
ompense }  In  what  way  would  his  ambition  be 
flattered  when  Onesimus,  overcome  by  his  per- 
severance,  should  give  himself  to  Jesus  Christ  ? 


1 82  THE    SLAVE    ONESIMUS. 


Ah  !  I  admire  St.  Paul  in  his  giant  activity, 
I  admire  him  traversing  the  Roman  world  at 
the  voice  of  the  Holy  Spirit  and  sowing  the 
ground,  preparing  the  way  for  a  succession  of 
naissant  churches  ;  Lystra,  Derby,  Pergamus, 
Antioch  of  Pisidia,  Troas,  Philippi,  Miletus, 
Cyprus,  Tyre,  Caesarea,  Malta,  Thessalonica, 
Berea,  Athens,  Corinth,  Ephesus,  and  many  oth- 
ers. I  admire  him  always  ready,  always  coura- 
geous, braving  vigils,  fatigues,  perils,  persecu- 
tions, scorns,  sufferings.  But,  if  I  must  choose, 
he  appears  to  me  more  grand,  more  wonderful 
when,  in  his  prison  in  Rome,  he  bestows  all 
his  care  and  all  his  love  on  the  soul  of  a  slave. 
But  why  contrast  these  two  activities,  when 
one  is  the  sole  explanation  of  the  other .''  St. 
Paul  teaching  Onesimus — here  is  what  explains  to 
us  St.  Paul  conquering  the  world  for  Jesus  Christ. 
Churches  after  all  are  souls;  churches  founded 
are  souls  converted,  and  one  does  not  convert 
but  by  loving,  St.  Paul  elsewhere  has  revealed 
to  us  his  secret,  when,  describing  his  ministry 
at  Ephesus,  he  expresses  himself  thus:  "  Re- 
member that  by  the  space  of  three  years  I  ceased 
not  to  warn  every  one  night  and  day  with  tears." 
Every  one  of  you;  the  whole   is  there.     In  this 


THE    SLAVE    ONESIMUS.  183 


way  of  doing  his  work  St.  Paul  was  only  follow- 
ing the  example  of  his  Master  who,  having  come 
to  earth  to  save  the  world,  began  by  saving 
Peter,  Andrew,  Philip,  Nathanael,  Mary  Magda- 
lene, Zaccheus,  nameless  persons,  the  ignorant, 
the  poor  of  the  earth, — and  who  taught  them 
as  if  it  were  for  their  sake  alone  that  He  came 
on  earth. 

Is  there  not  here  for  us,  my  brethren,  a 
lesson  and  a  reproof.''  Is  it  thus  we  act  .-*  Are 
we  acquainted  with  this  charity,  this  great  so- 
licitude, able,  if  need  be,  to  concentrate  our- 
selves upon  one  soul  until  that  soul  be  brought 
to  the  truth  }  Let  me  make  one  remark  here. 
It  is  the  tendency  of  our  race  to  see  in  religion 
a  social  fact  rather  than  an  individual  fact.  The 
church,  in  the  eyes  of  our  fellow-countrymen, 
is  an  institution,  rather  than  a  spiritual  family. 
Speak  to  a  Frenchman  of  religion;  immediately 
he  will  reply  to  you  by  speaking  of  the  church, 
of  its  claims,  of  its  enemies,  of  its  struggles, 
and  it  is  the  questions  relative  to  its  social  or 
political  destinies  which  will  arouse  him.  That 
which  he  will  be  slowest  to  comprehend  is,  what 
is  before  all  else  the  most  important  for  him, 
his  direct  and  personal  relations  to  God. 


1 84  THE    SLAVE    ONESIMUS. 


We  ourselves  yield  to  this  current.  We  talk 
freely  of  our  century,  of  its  miseries,  its  sufferings 
and  its  degradations;  we  move  in  the  pale  and 
vague  region  of  generalities,  and,  under  the  pre- 
text of  elevating  humanity,  we  forget  often  the 
real  man  who  suffers  and  perishes  at  our  side. 
Suppose  that  in  the  reign  of  Caesar  Augustus  we 
had  been  called  by  God  to  save  the  world;  we 
would  have  founded  religious  works,  published 
writings,  attacked  the  epicurism  and  the  scepti- 
cism of  the  age,  demonstrated  to  stoics  the  futil- 
ity of  their  cold  morality,  but  we  would  never 
have  believed  that  the  surest  means  of  attaining 
our  end,  was  laboriously  to  teach,  in  a  village  of 
Galilee,  some  toll-gatherers  and  fishermen,  to 
speak  in  passing  to  a  woman  of  Samaria  the 
words  of  eternal  life,  to  open  in  a  prison  the 
soul  of  a  poor  slave  to  the  truth.  Who  knows 
even  whether  if  this  fidelity  in  small  things  would 
not  have  seemed  to  us  as  labor  lost,  who  knows 
whether  we  would  not  have  sought  a  larger  field 
for  our  activity,  objects  more  worthy  of  our 
solicitude,  of  our  love  .''  Is  this  true  .''  Well,  let 
me  show  you,  in  drawing  to  a  close,  first  of  all 
that  this  tendency  is  a  snare  for  ourselves,  and 
then    that   it   explains  the  futility  of  our  efforts. 


THE    SLAVE    ONE  SIM  US.  185 


A  snare  for  ourselves,  and  see  how.  Noth- 
ing is  easier  than  to  burn  with  enthusiasm  for 
general  causes;  the  imagination  alone  suffices  for 
it;  abstractions  do  not  enlist  the  conscience. 
One  deplores,  for  example,  the  corruption  of  the 
century,  and  the  degradation  of  character;  that 
is  easy;  but  after  these  bursts  of  indignation  he 
will  not  retrench  in  one  item  of  his  table,  or 
diminish  by  a  cent  the  luxury  of  his  toilette  or 
his  furniture,  nor  will  he  resist  one  habit  of  indo- 
lence or  sensuality. 

Men  talk  of  saving  the  world,  and  after  being 
sincerely  stirred  at  this  sublime  task,  they  make 
no  effort  to  instruct  the  ignorant  who  are  near 
them;  they  live,  for  example,  side  by  side  with 
their  servants  without  asking  themselves  if  they 
have  immortal  souls,  they  allow  months  and 
years  to  pass  by  without  addressing  to  them  a 
word  of  serious  and  Christian  affection-,  and  after 
having  admired  St.  Paul  instructing  Onesimus, 
they  will  not  even  ask  themselves  whether  God 
has  not  put  some  Onesimus  at  their  gate  and  in 
their  path. 

Men  talk  of  instructing  the  people,  they  ap- 
plaud the  efforts  of  noble  men  Avho  follow  this 
course;  they  are  melted  at  the  thought  of  the 


l86  THE    SLAVE    ONESIMUS. 


misfortunes  of  the  working  class;  but  they  never 
inquire  with  distress  whether  in  some  enterprise 
which  they  sustain,  the  profit  which  they  draw 
from  the  investment  is  not  deducted  from  the 
insufficient  wages  of  the  workmen,  and  whether 
they  do  not  deserve  that  terrible  apostrophe 
of  St.  James,  "  Behold  the  hire  of  the  laborers 
which  is  of  you  kept  back  by  fraud,  and  the  cries 
of  them  are  entered  into  the  ears  of  the  Lord 
of  Hosts."  But  they  do  not  love  to  cross  the 
threshold  of  the  poor,  but  feel  an  invincible  re- 
pugnance at  the  sight  of  poverty. 

They  speak  of  raising  up  the  church,  but  they 
carefully  avoid  all  too  candid  confession  of  their 
faith  which  might  provoke  opposition  and  scorn, 
and  however  they  may  desire,  with  passion  per- 
haps, that  the  pulpit  at  the  foot  of  which  they 
are  accustomed  to  sit  should  be  closed  against 
error,  they  will  never  go  to  speak  courageously 
and  firmly  to  a  wandering  soul  of  the  way  which 
leads  to  God. 

Do  you  know  what  results  from  this  }  It  is 
that  we  gain  so  little.  And  why.-"  Because  it 
is  not  ideas  that  will  save  the  world,  because  ab- 
stractions and  theories  will  never  triumph  over 
evil  and  sin;  because  something  else  is  necessary 


THE    SLAVE    ONESIMUS.  187 


— the  ardor  of  a  heart  which  loves,  which  trans- 
lates the  truth  into  life;  because  that  ideas, 
without  love  which  fructifies,  is  the  winter 
sun  which  shines,  if  you  will,  but  under  whose 
rays  one  can  freeze  to  death.  Once  more,  be- 
hold St.  Paul  teaching  Onesimus,  opening  by  his 
divine  sympathy  the  closed  heart  of  that  slave, 
and  instructing  him  far  from  the  gaze  of  men, 
under  the  gaze  of  God.  To  thee,  great  apostle, 
faithful  in  little  things  and  in  the  most  obscure 
of  ministries,  belong  the  great  success  and  the 
victorious  activity;  and  to  the  Christian  children 
of  this  century,  the  sonorous  words  and  the 
numberless  deceptions  of  life  which  are  spent 
in  accomplishing  so  little  ! 

But  we  will  not  dwell  upon  these  sad  thoughts. 
Christian  humility  is  not  the  mother  of  discour- 
agement. Why  should  St.  Paul's  secret  not  be 
ours  }  It  is  never  too  late  to  love,  and  the  love 
of  God  sown  in  our  hearts  by  the  Holy  Spirit  can 
to-day,  as  formerly,  bring  forth  wonders. 

Church  of  Christ,  Church  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  which  groanest  over  thy  unsuccess 
and  thy  failures,  and  who,  very  far  from  conquer- 
ing the  world,  hast  often  to  count  with  tears 
the    multiplying  defections,  lift  up  thyself,  cast 


1 88  THE    SLAVE    OXES/MUS. 


off  thy  garments  of  mourning  and  shine  with  the 
rays  of  the  glory  of  thy  God:  then  march  into 
the  midst  of  this  great  people  which  surrounds 
thee,  taking  upon  thyself  their  weaknesses,  bear- 
ing their  maladies.  Stoop  to  perishing  souls, 
seek  and  save  the  Mary  Magdalenes,  the  Zac- 
cheuses  and  the  Onesimuses,  and  while  awaiting 
the  glorious  conquests  which  thy  God  hath  in 
reserve  for  thee,  rejoice  with  the  angels  of  Hea- 
ven over  one  sinner  that  repenteth.     Amen. 


VIII. 

m)t  ^tate  of  î9oulit 


VIII. 
Efje  .State  of  ©ouijt, 

"  Unto  the  upright  there  ariseth  light  in  the  darkness.'''' 

Psalm  cxii.  4. 

As  you  perceive,  my  brethren,  from  the  words 
which  I  have  read,  I  wish  to  speak  to-day  to 
those  who  walk  in  obscurity,  to  those  whose 
path,  once  perhaps  bright,  has  gradually  become 
involved  in  darkness.  There  are  many  clouds 
which  can  hide  the  light  from  us.  Ignorance, 
error,  sin,  physical  or  moral  sufferings,  often 
spread  their  heavy  shadow  over  the  path  of 
every  man.  It  is  not,  however,  to  these  afflic- 
tions that  I  wish  to  draw  your  attention.  This 
subject  would  be  too  vast  for  my  limited  strength. 
I  must  restrict  my  theme  for  fear  of  resting  in 
vague  generalities,  and  of  speaking  really  to  no 
one  in  assuming  to  speak  to  all.  It  is  solely  to 
those  who  are  in  doubt  that  I  address  myself;  I 


192  THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT. 


wish  to  show  them  the  truth  contained  in  my 
text:  "Unto  the  upright  there  ariseth  light  in 
the  darkness." 

Have  you  not  often  wished  that  you  had  been 
born  in  one  of  those  periods  which  were  the 
heroic  ages  of  humanity,  when  faith  filled  the 
soul,  when  through  earnest  struggles  every  one 
marched  with  enthusiasm  to  the  defence  of  his 
cause  or  to  the  overthrow  of  that  of  his  enemy, 
when  men  gave  the  whole  soul  to  the  service 
of  their  faith  without  doubting  for  a  moment  that 
in  serving  it  they  were  serving  God  ?  The  age 
we  live  in  has  other  characteristics.  A  word 
familiar  to  all  of  us  defines  it  precisely;  it  is  a 
time  of  crisis.  No  lofty  impulse,  no  powerful  in- 
spiration; on  all  sides  analysis  which  disjoins 
and  criticism  which  destroys  !  There  are  no 
longer  resounding  catastrophes  as  in  the  six- 
teenth or  eighteenth  century;  but  listen,  and 
you  will  hear  on  every  side  the  dull  sound  of 
the  sapping  which  is  undermining  the  old  foun- 
dations. On  alj  sides  is  disturbance.  A  feel- 
ing of  distrust  penetrates  the  most  firm.  There 
is  not  one  who  dares  look  upon  the  future  with 
calmness,  and  who  can  announce  with  any  con- 
fidence what  the  morrow  will  bring  forth. 


THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT.  193 


What  is  to  become  of  the  Christian  church  ? 
Ought  she  to  hope  for  a  near  revival  ?  Shall  we 
see  her  shake  off  her  torpor  and  arouse  herself 
to  a  sense  of  her  great  destinies  ?  shall  we  see 
Catholicism  take  on  new  life,  detach  itself  from 
the  political  issues  which  devour  its  substance, 
avoid  the  cause  which  is  pressed  upon  it  by  a 
faction  as  violent  as  it  is  blind,  refresh  itself  at 
the  life-giving  springs  of  the  Gospel  and  primi- 
tive Christianity  ?  Are  we  to  see  our  own 
churches  starting  up  under  the  powerful  breath 
of  the  creative  Spirit  ?  From  the  bosom  of  those 
internal  struggles  which  consume  their  best  en- 
ergies, in  sight  of  a  mocking  world,  must  a  pow- 
erful movement  spring  up  ?  Is  there  a  man 
born  to  whom,  as  to  Luther,  God  will  give  the 
word  of  life  and  of  renovation  ?  Is  there  a  great 
people  preparing  in  obscurity  to  rise  spontane- 
ously at  His  voice  ?  Or  rather,  must  we  wait  to 
see  the  Christian  cause  more  and  more  despised, 
rejected  and  hated  ?  Must  we  see  it  baptized 
with  the  double  baptism  of  the  contempt  of 
philosophers  and  the  hatred  of  the  people  ? 
Must  we  see  it  isolated  and  without  influence 
in  the  midst  of  a  humanity  intoxicated  with  in- 
dependence   and    pride  ?     Is   it   persecution    that 


194  THE    STATE    OF   DOUBT. 


awaits  it  ?  Is  it  contempt  ?  Is  triumph  near  at 
hand  ?  Who  knows  ?  Who  dares  say  it  ?  Who 
is  wiUing  to  be  the  prophet  of  this  troubled  age  ? 

But,  if  we  know  not  what  the  future  has  in 
store  for  us,  one  thing  at  least  we  know,  and 
that  is,  that  for  the  safety  of  the  church  the 
present  condition  cannot  last.  Listen  to  truly 
Christian  souls.  They  suffer,  they  groan,  they 
wait.  Upon  the  ruins  of  to-day  they  ask  for  a 
resurrection.  Through  sharp  struggles  they  long 
after  unity;  and  this  in  all  camps  and  in  all  com- 
munions. Listen  well  and  beneath  the  stinging 
words  of  controversy,  beneath  the  keen  attacks 
and  anathemas  of  the  sectarian  spirit,  you  will 
come  upon  common  words  of  humiliation,  of  sor- 
row, and  of  earnest  aspiration  toward  a  better 
future. 

But  this  gloomy  epoch  we  are  traversing  has 
its  temptations  and  its  perils.  Uncertainty  be- 
gets scepticism,  and  those  even  who  believe  in 
the  triumph  of  the  Gospel  find  their  faith  dis- 
turbed by  the  anxieties  of  the  present  hour.  The 
firmest  believers  have  felt  at  times  the  attacks 
of  doubt;  when  they  have  need  to  cry  out  with 
that  father  of  whom  the  Gospel  speaks:  "  Lord,  I 
believe.     Help  thou  mine  unbelief" — Mark  ix.  24. 


THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT.  195 


Now,  it  is  of  this  state  of  doubt  I  wish  to  speak 
to  you;  it  is  against  this  tendency  that  it  seems 
to  me  necessary  to  fortify  you  to-day. 

There  is  a  legitimate  doubt  which  it  becomes 
us  to  comprehend  and  respect.  When  a  man 
has  received  religious  faith  simply  as  a  matter 
of  tradition  and  of  heritage,  when  he  has  be- 
lieved less  in  truth  itself  than  in  the  authority 
which  transmitted  it  to  him,  a  day  comes  when 
he  looks  within  himself,  and  asks  himself  why  he 
believes.     It  is  his  duty-to  ask  this  of  himself. 

I  know  that  according  to  a  well-accredited 
opinion  in  France,  a  man  should  not  discuss  the 
religion  of  his  country  and  his  fathers,  and  that  to 
respect  tradition  is  in  the  eyes  of  many  the  first 
duty  of  a  citizen.  But  there  is  in  this  manner 
of  looking  at  religion  something  so  savoring  of 
contempt  for  it,  that  I  cannot  disguise  the  pro- 
found repugnance  which  I  feel  toward  it.  Thus, 
one  would  be  Christian  because  he  was  born  in 
France,  just  as  he  would  be  Mahometan  were  he 
born  in  Turkey;  and  propriety  would  demand 
that  on  no  consideration  shall  one  discuss  the 
faith  in  which  he  was  brought  up.  They  say 
that  religion  thus  understood  has  powerfully  con- 
tributed to  establish  the   most  lasting  and  the 


196  THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT. 


strongest  nationalities;  the  pretense  is  made  to 
associate  it  indissolubly  with  patriotism;  and  it  is 
by  the  support  of  such  arguments  that  we  hear  it 
asserted  every  day  that  France  should  always  be 
devoted  to  the  interest  of  the  Holy  See,  because 
she  is  the  nation  of  Clovis  and  of  St.  Louis. 

But  what  they  do  not  say  is  that  this  is  a  re- 
turn to  the  Pagan  principle  which  assigns  to  ev- 
ery nation  its  gods  and  its  altars;  that  thus  they 
degrade  that  universal  religion  which  according 
to  the  words  of  St.  Paul  knows — "  Only  one  God, 
who  is  above  us  all,  among  us  all,  and  in  all." 
What  they  do  not  say  is,  that  in  pretending  to 
serve  religion  they  actually  inculcate  scepticism, 
for  what  is  this  but  a  religious  truth  which 
reaches  only  to  the  frontier  and  which  changes 
with  nationalities }  Truth  on  this  side  of  the 
Pyrenees,  error  beyond.  A  stream  suffices  to 
change  doctrines.  It  is  the  duty  of  a  good 
Frenchman  to  serve  the  Roman  Church  because, 
as  they  tell  us,  it  founded  our  nationality.  And 
since  it  was  the  Reformation  which  made  the 
greatness  of  Germany,  every  good  German  should 
be  equally  devoted  to  the  cause  of  Luther.  But 
beyond  the  Vistula,  there  is  an  immense  power 
which  has  grown  under  the  shadow  of  the  sym- 


THE    STATE    OF   DOUBT.  197 


bol  of  the  Greek  Church;  while  at  Constantinople 
there  is  a  vast  empire  which  has  had  Mahomet's 
crescent  for  its  flag.  What  is  the  final  word  of 
this  system  ?  It  is  national  religion,  it  is  relig- 
ious war  in  which  each  leader  pretends  to  in- 
voke upon  his  flag  the  blessing  of  God.  And  do 
you  not  see  that  religion,  thus  put  to  the  service 
of  politics,  will  descend  with  it  into  all  its  in- 
trigues and  all  its  passions;  that  it  will  be  but 
an  instrument  of  dominion  and  conquest  ?  For 
myself,  if  one  should  ask  me  to  enumerate  the 
causes  which  have  cast  the  greatest  discredit 
upon  Christianity  in  our  old  Europe,  I  should  cite 
this  first.  Oh  !  I  say  it  with  earnest  conviction, 
may  that  day  soon  come  when  earthly  govern- 
ments will  no  longer  assume  to  protect  religion, 
when  they  will  no  longer,  in  return,  demand  of  it 
selfish  prayers  which  change  with  each  country, 
and  with  each  revolution  in  the  same  country  ! 
May  that  day  soon  come,  for  then  the  church, 
compelled  at  last  to  look  only  to  her  Divine 
Head,  will  better  understand  than  she  has  ever 
done  the  reality  of  His  presence  and  His  victori- 
ous power  !  Severed  from  the  delusive  protec- 
tions which  compromise  her  more  than  they 
serve  her,   she  will   prove  to  the  world,   which 


198  THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT. 


prates  of  her  decline,  her  immortal  youth  and 
her  strange  vitality. 

We  must,  then,  give  account  to  ourselves 
of  our  faith,  my  brethren;  it  is  a  right,  it 
is  a  duty.  The  Gospel  does  not  impose  con- 
victions, it  would  have  these  convictions  free 
and  sincere.  Nothing  equals  the  profound  re- 
spect of  Jesus  Christ  for  the  human  soul  ; 
He  never  does  it  violence,  never  takes  it  by 
surprise,  and  never  even  carries  it  away  in  a 
rapture  of  enthusiasm.  Need  I  recall  to  you  here 
the  language  of  St.  Paul,  the  care  with  which  he 
refrains  from  lording  it  over  the  faith  of  others, 
his  incessant  appeals  to  the  intelligence,  to  the 
investigation,  to  the  personal  experience  of  those 
to  whom  he  writes  .''  Now  all  investigation  in- 
volves the  possibility  of  doubt.  To  sieze  the 
truth  we  must  separate  it  from  error,  and  this 
supreme  question  formulates  itself  in  the  con- 
science, "  Have  I  the  truth  V  Formidable  ques- 
tion, but  one  which  no  one  has  the  right  to  evade. 

I  know  many  men  who  would  like  to  shirk  it. 
"It  is  investigation,"  say  they,  "  which  ruins  us; 
it  is  investigation  which  destroys  faith."  I  deny 
it  emphatically.  And  first,  I  ask  if  religious 
sentiment  is  weaker,  less  profound  in  countries 


THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT.  199 


where  there  is  investigation,  than  where  books 
are  closed,  mouths  stopped,  inquiry  stifled  ? 
What  do  we  see  around  us  ?  Know  that  what 
I  complain  of,  is  that  men  do  not  investi- 
gate, that  religion  seriously  occupies  only  the 
smallest  minority,  that  men  plunge  into  unbe- 
lief as  once  they  did  into  tradition,  blindly,  on 
the  authority  of  certain  leaders.  It  is  always 
the  faith  of  authority;  only  the  professor  of  athe- 
ism some  day  undertakes  to  share  the  place 
which  has  been  filled  hitherto  by  the  priest,  and 
is  listened  to  with  the  same  docility.  Fanati- 
cism in  place  of  fanaticism, — I  do  not  give  to  it 
the  name  of  conviction, — and  when  I  see  the 
carelessness,  the  astonishing  ignorance,  the  sec- 
tarian narrowness  with  which  certain  schools 
pretend  to  judge  the  Gospel,  I  have  the  right  to 
say  to  them,  "  Do  you  know  what  you  are  talk- 
ing about  ? " 

But,  if  investigation  be  a  duty,  "is  it  always 
possible  }"  you  will  ask  me.  "Would  you  invite 
the  ignorant,  the  simple,  to  deal  with  questions 
the  most  subtle,  the  most  complicated  }  "  No, 
my  brethren,  we  make  no  such  claim,  and  those 
who  attribute  it  to  evangelical  Protestantism  cast 
easy  ridicule  upon  it,  but  at  the  expense  of  truth, 


200  THE    STATE    OF    DOUBT. 


I  believe,  for  my  part,  that  the  Gospel  has  its 
proofs  for  all  kinds  of  minds  and  for  all  condi- 
tions of  the  soul.  To  some,  it  justifies  itself  by 
arguments  which  lay  hold  upon  their  intelligence. 
With  others,  it  touches  especially  the  conscience 
and  the  heart.  It  is  not  necessary  to  be  a  theo- 
logian to  have  excellent  reasons  for  believing  in 
Jesus  Christ;  and  when,  through  Him,  one  has 
found  the  true  God,  when  one  possesses  pardon, 
peace  and  the  assurance  of  eternal  life,  he  is 
standing  upon  ground  which  all  the  theologians 
of  the  world  cannot  shake.  I  go  further  and  I 
assert  that  the  greatest  theologians,  who  have 
not  had  this  experience,  run  great  risk  of  passing 
by  Christianity  without  having  understood  the 
first  word  of  it.  But  he  who  has  had  this  experi- 
ence, be  he  a  poor  workman,  be  he  the  most  ig- 
norant of  hodmen,  he  no  longer  believes  blindly, 
for  between  his  conscience  and  the  truth  there 
has  been  established  that  intimate  accordance 
which  creates  convictions  of  sterling  quality;  and 
when  with  the  tone  of  one  convinced,  he  says  to 
mc,  "  I  know  in  whom  I  have  believed,"  I  bow 
before  his  faith.  Do  not  say  then  that  investiga- 
tion is  impossible  in  such  matters,  and  that  there 
remains  no  refuge  but  blind  faith.     The  Gospel 


THE    STATE    OF   DOUBT.  20I 


lias  its  proofs  for  all,  and  the  most  decisive,  the 
strongest,  the  most  attractive  are  those  which 
are  common  to  the  ignorant  and  to  the  learned, 
those  which  above  all  appeal  to  the  guilty  con- 
science, to  the  heart  which  thirsts  for  pardon,  for 
love  and  for  peace. 

I  have  vindicated  the  need  of  inquiry  and  the 
legitimacy  of  doubt.  Let  me  show  you  this  by  an 
example.  We  are  in  the  first  century  of  our  era. 
The  apostle  of  salvation  by  faith,  St.  Paul,  has 
just  landed  in  a  city  of  Asia;  he  has  entered  the 
synagogue,  and  his  earnest  words  have  won 
hearts;  a  church  is  formed,  but  there  are  there 
former  Jews,  zealous  for  the  traditions  of  their 
fathers;  they  see  with  alarm,  with  an  honest  in- 
dignation, a  doctrine  proposed  which  declares 
that  the  law  of  Moses  is  abolished,  that  the 
temple  of  Jerusalem  must  fall,  that  Israel  is  no 
longer  to  be  the  people  of  God,  and  that  the  very 
heathen  can  call  themselves  the  children  of  Abra- 
ham. They  remember  the  promises  of  the  proph- 
ets announcing  to  Judah  an  eternal  covenant  with 
God,  affirming  that  Jerusalem  was  to  be  the  cen- 
tre of  the  world  tovvards  which  all  nations  would 
turn  their  eyes.  If  the  words  of  St.  Paul  troubled 
them  for  a  moment,  they  soon  reject  them  with 


202  THE    STATE    OF   DOUBT. 


alarm,  as  though  from  an  emissary  of  Satan. 
They  are  carried  away  by  their  own  zeal,  and 
believing  that  they  are  serving  Jehovah,  they 
condemn,  they  curse,  they  anathematize  without 
examining,  without  reflecting.  Is  not  this  the 
history  of  all  fanaticisms;  of  that  which  pursued 
Christ  before  the  sanhedrim  and  in  the  judgment 
hall  with  cries  of  hatred  and  holy  anger;  of  that 
which  in  the  streets  of  Ephesus  cried  out  all  one 
day — "  Great  is  Diana  of  the  Ephesians  "  .-* 

Would  you  see,  on  the  other  hand,  how  doubt 
in  penetrating  into  a  soul  can  bring  to  it  light } 
Look  at  that  young  disciple  of  the  Pharisees, 
who  after  having  assisted  at  the  punishment  of 
Stephen,  goes  away  thoughtful  and  conscience 
stricken.  He  has  heard  the  sublime  prayer  of 
the  martyr  and  for  the  first  time  has  been  trou- 
bled; he  has  said  to  himself,  "Am  I  not  mis- 
taken }  "  He  will  not  at  first  listen  to  this 
doubt;  on  the  contrary,  to  stifle  this  unfortu- 
nate voice,  he  shows  a  new  zeal  against  the 
Christians,  until  one  day  when  a  thunderbolt 
felled  him  to  the  ground  on  the  road  to  Da- 
mascus. The  first  doubt  in  the  soul  of  St.  Paul, 
was  the  first  ray  of  the  new  day  which  was  to 
enlighten  him. 


THE    STATE    OF   DOUBT.  203 


Thus  doubt  can  be  legitimate,  it  can  be  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  will  of  God.  But  on  what 
condition  ?  That  it  be  produced  by  very  love 
of  the  truth,  that  it  have  for  its  end  to  arrive 
at  the  truth.  In  this  case  it  is,  if  I  may  so  ex- 
press it,  but  one  of  the  sides  of  faith.  From 
the  same  motive  which  makes  me  affirm  the 
truth,  I  doubt  in  face  of  probable  error,  and 
I  deny  in  face  of  demonstrated  error.  So,  in 
another  line  of  thought,  hatred  can  be  one  of 
the  phases  of  love;  for,  because  I  love  justice 
and  holiness,  I  hate  and  I  ought  to  hate  iniquity 
and  pollution.  But  if  the  love  of  good  involves 
the  hatred  of  evil,  according  to  those  beautiful 
words  of  the  Psalmist,  "All  ye  who  love  the 
Lord  hate  evil,"  does  it  follow  from  this  that 
hatred  can  be  commended,  and  is  it  not  evident 
that  separated  from  love  it  is  a  perfect  hell  for 
the  human  soul  .'*  Now,  what  is  true  of  hatred 
I  apply  to  doubt,  and  I  say:  "  Though  doubt 
can  be  one  of  the  means  by  which  the  love  of 
truth  shows  itself,  it  does  not  remain  less  true 
that  doubt  is  fatal  to  the  soul,  that  it  uncon- 
sciously degrades  it,  that  it  destroys  it."  This 
is  what  I  am  now  to  try  and  show  you. 

The  question  before  us  is  The  State  of  Doubt; 


204  THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT. 


this  is  the  malady  which  I  demonstrate,  and  the 
effects  of  which  I  see  everywhere.  There  are  in- 
tellectual doubts.  You  have  lent  youf  ear  to  the 
conflicts  of  opinion  in  this  troubled  age.  You 
have  heard  men  discuss  the  proofs  upon  which 
faith  rests;  behind  each  truth  -you  have  encoun- 
tered a  "perhaps,"  which  rendered  it  suspicious. 
You  have  seen  acute  minds  treat  Christianity  as 
only  one  religion  among  others  a  little  higher  than 
the  rest.  You  have  heard  negation  reaching  to 
everything  and  sparing  nothing.  One  page  after 
another  must  be  torn  from  the  Gospel;  one  story 
after  another  must  be  placed  thereafter  among 
the  legends;  the  figure  of  Christ  goes  on  losing 
its  distinctive  features  and  fades  away  in  the 
twilight  of  the  past.  After  Jesus  Christ,  there 
remains  at  least  the  living  God,  God  the  creator 
and  judge;  but  lo,  science  affirms  that  these  are 
superannuated  dogmas,  wholly  human  concep- 
tions which  must  be  left  to  children  and  childish 
people.  These  opinions  startle  at  first,  perhaps 
they  terrify,  but  at  last  they  are  reiterated  every- 
where. Some  day  they  knock  at  the  portal  of 
your  soul.  You  resist,  but  they  return  to  the 
charge.  Arrogant  and  peremptory,  or  insinuat- 
ing and  complaisant,  they  haunt  you,  they  beset 


THE    STATE    OF   DOUBT.  205 


you.  The  angel  of  doubt  lights  upon  you  when 
you  read  the  Scripture,  he  whispers  in  your  ear 
words  of  cold  irony,  he  sits  by  you  when  you 
listen  here  to  the  Gospel;  when  you  bend  your 
knee  to  pray,  he  says  to  you,  "What  good  does 
it  do  ?  "  He  rise^  and  approaches  with  you  to 
the  communion  table;  he  mingles  a  sarcasm  with 
your  holiest  emotions.  An  hour  comes  at  last 
when  the  darkness  invades  your  soul,  when  you 
look  anxiously  for  your  vanished  faith,  when  you 
repeat  with  bitterness  the  words  of  Job,  "  I 
hoped  for  light,  but  behold  the  darkness." 

All.  are  not  tempted  in  this  way.  Intellectual 
doubts  are  the  portion  of  but  few.  But  life  starts 
formidable  questions  for  all,  even  for  the  most  ig- 
norant. You  look  around  you,  and  you  see  the 
church,  which  ought  to  be  the  kingdom  of  God 
on  the  earth,  left  to  its  fate,  compromised,  and 
often  ridiculed  through  fault  of  its  defenders. 
You  see  Christian  faith  remaining  without  effect 
upon  life,  and  men  who  are  called  pious  lacking 
in  strict  integrity;  you  see  them  selfish,  narrow 
minded,  proud  as  other  men,  implacable  in  their 
resentments,  pitiless  in  their  judgments;  you  per- 
ceive that  religious  strifes  possess  the  secret  of 
producing  bitternesses  of  speech,  a  sort  of  odious 


2o6  THE    STATE    OF   DOUBT. 


mixture  of  mildness  and  crabbed  zeal,  of  pious 
effusions  and  calumnious  attacks.  You  never 
think  of  inquiring  whether  the  Gospel  is  respon- 
sible for  all  this,  and  when  you  see  beside  you 
men  without  faith,  indifferent  men,  atheists,  yet 
generous,  benevolent,  charitable,  you  let  your- 
self gradually  come  to  believe  that  Christianity 
is  without  influence.  In  this  state  of  half-scep- 
ticism time  passes,  and  every  day  the  influence 
of  the  world  and  of  life  disturbs,  wears  away  the 
convictions  like  water  which,  penetrating  into 
the  sloping  ground,  loosens  it  little  by  little,  and 
makes  it  slide  imperceptibly  on  the  edge  of  the 
abyss. 

Now  for  the  proof!  You  pray,  and  are  not 
answered;  you  try  again  and  the  heavens  are 
closed  and  God  remains  silent.  What  !  God 
does  not  hear!  And  where  then  are  His  prom- 
ises }  He  docs  not  take  from  me  the  tempta- 
tion which  besets  me  !  He  does  not  spare  me 
the  anguish  under  which  I  am  about  to  sink  ! 
He  does  not  give  me  my  daily  bread  !  He  does 
not  save  that  life  upon  which  mine  is  hung  ! 
He  docs  not  give  back  to  me  that  child  for 
which  I  have  blessed  Him  so  often,  and  whose 
smiles,  caresses  and  innocent  confidence  have  so 


THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT.  207 


often  drawn  me  closer  to  Him  !  He  lets  him 
suffer,  and  die  !  He  who  is  Himself  father,  He 
does  not  understand  my  anguish,  when  by  a 
word  or  a  sign  He  could  appease  it  !  Or,  what 
is  worse  yet,  He  leaves  that  soul  which  is  as 
dear  to  me  as  my  own,  a  prey  to  error,  to  dis- 
order, to  the  corruption  which  wastes  it. 

Then,  in  this  excess  of  grief  all  is  shaken,  all 
crumbles  away  in  the  soul  and  even  God  Himself 
disappears.  It  is  not  that  there  is  a  constant 
doubt  of  God.  That  does  not  happen  which  is 
wished.  Atheism  offends  too  sensibly  the  rea- 
son, which,  seeking  instinctively  a  cause  for 
everything,  does  not  easily  concede  that  the 
world  alone  can  dispense  with  a  cause.  One 
acknowledges  a  God,  but  no  longer  believes  in 
His  love,  or  rather,  as  is  more  frequent,  imag- 
ined that  he  alone  does  not  experience  its  ef- 
fects. By  a  monstrous  error  he  believes  himself 
to  have  become  the  doomed  of  God's  wrath. 
There  is  something  strange  in  this  idea  of  a 
creature  who  believes  that  the  Almighty  se- 
lects him  from  all  others  to  make  him  the  ob- 
ject of  His  merciless  and  persevering  enmity. 
One  would  be  tempted  to  smile  at  it,  if  a  smile 
were  oossible  in  the  face  of  such  agonies.     In 


2o8  THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT. 


vain  do  we  make  such  misguided  souls  hear  the 
most  touching  appeals  of  the  Gospel.  God,  they 
think,  cannot  love  them.  Blinded  by  their  grief, 
they  have  no  discernment  of  His  mercy,  but  only 
of  His  severity.  "God  must  love  us  much  to 
chasten  us  after  this  sort,"  say  they  with  irony. 
They  sum  up  their  trials;  they  extract  from 
them  all  the  gall,  they  drink  it  to  the  dregs. 
Ah  !  Let  us  pity  them,  my  brethren,  for  what 
distress  can  equal  theirs  .-'  Let  us  pity  them,  for 
frightful  as  this  attitude  may  be,  it  is  perhaps 
better  than  indifference.  Ye  fathers  who  hear 
me,  would  you  hesitate  a  moment  between  a 
rebellious  son  and  a  son  whose  heart  is  abso- 
lutely hardened  toward  you  .'' 

I  have  pictured  to  you  some  of  the  effects  of 
doubt  such  as  I  have  been  able  to  observe  them 
myself.  Perhaps  more  than  one  of  those  who 
hear  me  has  recognized  his  own  sad  history  in 
this  picture.  Have  you  visited  in  your  riper 
years  the  house  where  you  were  happy  in  your 
youth,  where  you  had  loved,  a  house  once  full 
of  sunshine  and  joyous  laughter;  and  have  you 
found  it  now  dismantled,  sad  and  solitary } 
Have  you  seen  the  family  table,  the  grandfa- 
ther's chair,  the  hearthstone  once  so  bright,  and 


THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT.  209 


whose  warmth  was  less  than  that  of  the  hearts 
which  encircled  it.  Have  you  traced  with  mel- 
ancholy step  the  path  where  you  revelled  in 
your  first  dreams  of  youth,  those  dreams  of  in- 
finite hope  ?  Have  you  found  again  the  seat 
where  the  long  talks  were  protracted  in  the 
shade  of  evening,  have  you  contemplated  all 
this,  with  your  heart  rent  by  trials  ?  Have  there 
risen  before  you  at  each  step  sweet  and  dear  im- 
ages, appearing  for  a  moment  only  to  leave  you 
the  more  sad  and  lonely  ?  Have  you  stretched 
out  your  arms  into  the  void  to  seize  again  this 
past  which  has  escaped  you  forever  ? 

Now,  it  is  with  the  soul  of  man,  as  with  his 
home,  and  those  who  doubt  will  comprehend 
me.  Do  you  remember  the  day  when  first  your 
soul  opened  to  receive  the  truth,  and  when  the 
God  of  the  Gospel  entered  in  ?  Do  you  remem- 
ber your  first  tears  of  repentance  and  love.'*  Can 
you  hear  the  words  of  forgiveness  and  of  peace 
which  then  filled  your  heart  with  unspeakable 
joy .''  Do  you  perceive  still  the  white  robe  of 
the  divine  compassion  descending  upon  you  and 
entirely  enveloping  you  ?  Do  you  see  again 
past  blessings  which  rise  up  on  all  sides  and 
speak  to  you  of  the  love  of  God  .■*     Do  you  re- 


2IO  THE    STATE    OF   DOUBT. 


call  the  days  begun  in  prayer,  the  holy  prompt- 
ings of  conscience  heeded,  the  selfishness  over- 
come, and  the  works  of  devotion  loved  and 
followed  ?  To-day  you  doubt,  and  when  you 
retire  into  your  soul,  it  seems  as  if  you  were 
wandering  through  an  empty  house  where  you 
call  up  only  the  remembrance  of  the  dead.  You 
doubt,  and  others  know  nothing  of  it  perhaps, 
and  as  you  sit  here  by  our  side,  apparently  offer- 
ing up  your  prayers  with  us,  you  seem  to  your- 
self to  have  become  a  stranger  to  us.  You  say, 
"If  they  but  knew  my  thoughts!"  Our  lan- 
guage of  faith,  of  love  and  of  hope  expresses  no 
longer  ,what  is  in  your  heart. 

Now,  I  address  myself  to  you  who  recognize 
yourselves  by  these  traits,  I  ask  you,  are  you 
willing  to  remain  in  this  state  }  Do  you  not 
feel  that  here  you  are  dying  so  far  as  the  true 
life  is  concerned  } 

You  must  come  out  of  it,  for  your  soul  is 
sinking  into  the  power  of  a  growing  paral}'sis; 
for,  upon  this  vessel  which  the  sea  is  carrying 
away,  there  is  no  longer  a  pilot  at  the  helm, 
as  it  is  tossed  about  in  vain  by  opposing  waves. 
You  must  do  this,  for  your  will  becomes  weakened 
in  this  divided  life,  inspiration  fails  you,  and  your 


THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT.  211 


existence  goes  on  sad  and  sterile.  And  do  you 
not  see  that  the  world  has  gained  all  that  the 
higher  life  has  lost  in  you  ?  Where  are  your 
works  of  piety  and  charity  ?  What  words  of 
strength  and  consolation  do  you  bear  to  those 
about  you  ?  What  hidden  sacrifices  do  you  sow 
along  your  pathway  ?  What  ground  have  you 
conquered  from  error  and  evil  ?  Where  are  your 
scruples  in  those  matters  which  formerly  trou- 
bled you  ?  When  temptation  comes,  where  will 
your  refuge  be,  behind  what  rampart  will  you 
take  shelter  ?  It  is  by  faith  the  soul  must  live, 
and  protracted  doubt  is  death. 

Am  I  telling  you,  my  brethren,  to  escape  from 
doubt  by  an  exaggerated  enthusiasm  {l'cxal- 
tntioii)  ?  Do  I  pretend  to  preach  to  you  a 
blind  faith .''  Do  I  induce  you  to  cast  your- 
selves in  despair  into  the  arms  of  authority .-' 
No,  indeed,  for  exaltation  is  the  intoxication  of 
the  soul  and  this  is  not  what  God  wishes  of  us; 
what  He  bids  you  do,  we  will  see  presently;  to- 
day let  me  at  least  give  you  one  counsel. 

However  severe  the  attacks  of  doubt  may  be, 
there  remains  in  your  soul  some  ultimate  con- 
victions which  have  still  for  you  a  sacred  char- 
acter.    If  you  no  longer  believe  in  certain  teach- 


THF.    STATE    OF   DOUBT. 


ings  of  the  Gospel,  you  yet  believe  perhaps  that 
Jesus  has  come  from  God:  if  Jesus  Christ  Him- 
self is  for  you  but  the  most  holy  of  men,  you 
believe  still  that  His  word  is  truth.  If  criticism 
has  robbed  you  even  of  this,  you  believe  at  least 
that  God  exists,  and  that  He  is  just  and  good, 
If  God  is  to  you  naught  but  an  idea,  you  be- 
lieve that  good  is  worth  more  than  evil,  truth 
than  falsehood,  love  than  selfishness.  Well  keep 
hold  of  this  supreme  truth,  and  behind  it  shelter 
your  soul. 

When  a  country  has  fallen  into  the  power  of  a 
foreign  oppressor,  when  city  after  city  has  sur- 
rendered, when  a  detested  yoke  presses  every- 
where, if  there  are  left  some  lofty  souls,  still 
capable  of  comprehending  the  value  of  liberty 
and  independence,  they  choose  a  last  refuge,  and 
there  in  solitude  they  plant  the  flag  of  their 
country,  in  order  to  protest  till  the  hour  of  inde- 
pendence; for,  as  long  as  that  flag  floats,  they 
can  hope  for  freedom.  So,  I  say  to  you,  when 
doubt  shall  have  invaded  your  whole  soul, 
when  your  convictions  and  your  best  hopes  shall 
have  receded  step  by  step  before  it,  take  your 
stand  behind  one  of  those  supreme  truths  with- 
out which  life  is  not  worth  living,  and  which  you 


THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT.  313 


can  only  renounce  by  suicide; — and  there,  my 
brother,  upon  that  last  corner  of  earth,  dig  with 
your  hands,  even  unto  blood,  wet  that  soil  with 
your  tears,  and  then  plant  there  the  flag  of  faith. 
May  it  remain  there  raised  by  your  faithful 
hand  until  the  day  of  light  and  liberty;  and  if 
that  day  should  not  shine  for  you  on  earth,  die 
at  least  in  affirming  that  there  is  an  eternal 
truth.  God  who  weighs  all  things  in  His  infinite 
justice  will  judge  you  in  His  mercy,  and  as  for 
myself,  without  penetrating  His  judgment,  I  will 
remember  that  according  to  the  promise  of  the 
Scriptures,  light  will  rise  sooner  or  later  for 
those  whose  hearts  are  right.     Amen. 


IX. 

E|)e  ^tate  of  ©ouit 

(Second  Sermon.) 


IX. 

^i)c  ^tate  of  ÎBoulit* 

(Second  Sermon.) 

"  Unto  the  tipright  there  ariseth  light  in  the  darkness.'''' 

Psalm  cxii.  4. 

I  HAVE  studied  with  you,  my  brethren,  the 
state  of  doubt  and  its  effect  upon  the  soul.  I 
have  pointed  out  the  causes  which  most  frequent- 
ly produce  it.  It  remains  to  me  now  to  show  you 
by  what  means  this  state  can  be  combated. 

Understand  the  end  which  I  propose  to  my- 
self. I  am  not  to  speak  to  sceptics,  but  to  be- 
lievers whose  faith  is  disturbed.  Nor  do  I  by 
any  means  assume  to  touch  here  upon  the  objec- 
tions which  are  raised  to-day  against  Chris- 
tianity, and  which  may  have  disturbed  their 
faith.  How  could  I  accomplish  this,  were  I  so 
disposed  .?  These  attacks  are  innumerable.  Not 
one  of  the  truths  which  I  hold  has  been  spared, 


2l8  THE    STATE    OF   DOUBT. 


there  is  not  one  upon  which  I  have  not  heard 
pronounced  in  the  name  of  science,  sentence  of 
irremediable  condemnation:  "What  !  Do  you 
still  believe  in  the  supernatural,"  says  some  one 
of  our  brethren,  who  thinks  he  has  freed  his 
faith  from  every  element  of  error,  "do  you  not 
see  that  the  supernatural  has  had  its  day  !  " 
"What!"  some  sincere  deist  in  turn  says  to  him, 
"you  believe  still  in  Jesus  Christ,  and  do  not  see 
that  the  human  conscience  is  the  only  revelation 
from  God!"  "What!"  responds  an  apostle  of 
the  independent  morality,  "you  cling  still  to 
that  undemonstrable  hypothesis  that  you  call 
God,  and  do  not  perceive  that  the  idea  of  the 
good  and  of  moral  liberty  suffices  the  man  who 
is  seeking  for  truth  !  "  "  Stop  !  "  a  materialist 
equally  sincere  cries  out  to  this  last,  "science 
does  not  know  that  conception  which  you  call 
moral  liberty." 

What  is  the  last  word  of  this  conflict  ?  This 
last  word  has  been  pronounced  recently  in  a 
public  discussion  by  a  writer  of  great  talents.' 
"  How  can  one  speak,"  he  exclaims,  "  of  any 
fixed  rule  in  morals.  There  is  no  other  than 
success."     Docs  not  this  recall  to  you,  my  breth- 

'  M.  Emile  de  Girardin. 


THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT.  219 


ren,  the  word  of  the  Gospel,  "  Let  the  dead  bury 
their  dead"?  And  what  is  strange  is  that  all, 
equally  sincere,  pretend  to  speak  in  the  name 
of  a  science  which  wants  no  more  hypotheses. 
Poor  and  noble  science  !  what  ruins  accumulate 
in  thy  name  ! 

You  do  not  expect  me  to  enter  into  such  a 
discussion  with  you;  I  have  no  thought  of  it.  I 
undertake,  not  to  reply  to  such  individual  doubts, 
but  to  combat  the  state  of  doubt  itself,  that  mor- 
bid condition  which  to-day  is  invading  so  many 
souls,  and  it  may  be  your  own.  It  is  for  me  to 
show  what  one  who  has  been  assailed  by  it  ought 
to  do. 

Jesus,  finding  one  day  at  the  gates  of  Jerusalem 
a  poor  paralytic  who  for  thirty-eight  years  had 
dragged  out  a  miserable  existence,  was  moved 
with  compassion  and  wished  to  heal  him;  but 
first  of  all  He  stopped  in  front  of  him,  and  said 
to  him,  "Wouldest  thou  be  healed  .-*  "  Now, 
let  me,  first  of  all,  address  this  very  question 
to  you,  oh  ye  who  doubt  !  Will  you  be  healed  } 
Do  you  desire  it  '^.  You  complain  of  the  uncer- 
tainty you  are  in,  of  your  lassitude,  of  your  in- 
decisions, of  that  sickly  debility  which  you  allow 
to   consume   your   days   and    your   energy:    you 


220  THE    STATE    OE  DOUBT. 


envy,  you  say,  the  happiness  of  those  who  be- 
lieve. It  seems,  to  Hsten  to  you,  that  the  state 
you  are  in  does  not  by  any  means  depend  upon 
yourselves.  Now  it  is  precisely  to  this  point 
that  I  call  your  serious  attention.  Are  you  sure, 
absolutely  sure,  that  your  will  is  in  no  degree 
responsible  for  it  .-^  You  say  that  it  is  sincerity 
which  compels  you  to  this  state.  Well,  I  ap- 
peal now  to  this  sincerity,  and  I  ask  you  if  there 
are  not  in  doubt  certain  fascinations  which  you 
do  not  care  to  confess. 

Let  us  speak  first  of  intellectual  doubts.  Have 
they  nothing  which  flatters  your  self-love  .''  In 
meeting  the  question  raised  between  one  who 
says,  "  I  believe,"  and  another  who  shakes  his 
head  in  dissent,  to  which  does  the  world  give 
the  palm  of  intelligence  .-'  Is  it  not  to  the  lat- 
ter .''  Singular  judgment  however  !  Indeed  if 
doubt  were  a  proof  of  superior  intelligence,  we 
must  conclude  that  such  intelligence  is  common, 
for  doubters  are  everywhere;  and  moreover  igno- 
rance, narrow  mindedness,  vulgarity  of  thought, 
prejudices  of  all  kinds  are  not,  as  they  should  be, 
the  distinctive  attributes  of  believers.  But  still 
it  is  an  understood  thing  that  faith  almost  al- 
ways betrays  some  weakness  of  mind. 


THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT.  221 


Now,  my  brethren,  think  you  that  it  is  an  easy 
matter  to  confess  one's  faith  before  the  world  ? 
I  ask  it  of  the  student  as  well  as  of  the  workman 
who  may  be  listening  to  me;  I  ask  whether,  in 
the  high  schools  as  in  the  workshops,  faith  does 
not  exact  of  him  who  professes  it  a  courageous 
effort  and  often  painful  sacrifices;  whether  it  does 
not  excite  ridicule  or  a  kind  of  respect  mingled 
with  contempt  ?  Notice  that  it  has  always  been 
so.  In  the  seventeenth  century,  for  example,  at 
a  time  when  Christianity  was  outwardly  accepted 
by  all,  I  am  struck  by  finding  the  ministers  of 
the  Gospel  continually  warning  their  hearers 
against  respect  of  man  and  the  fear  of  ridicule. 
At  the  bottom,  the  spirit  of  the  world  is  ever 
the  same;  to  be  a  Christian,  one  must  be  a  wit- 
ness before  the  world  and  the  bearer  of  a  truth 
which  astonishes,  irritates,  and  scandalizes  it. 
Do  you  accept  this  task .?  Is  there  not  here 
that  which  terrifies  your  weakness  and  your  cow- 
ardice .''  If  to-morrow  a  great  current  of  opinion 
should  pronounce  in  favor  of  the  Gospel,  would 
it  cost  you  as  much  to  believe  and  to  confess 
your  faith  ?  Look  within  yourselves,  examine 
yourselves,   and  answer. 

Do  )  ou  know  what  is  the   second  charm  of 


222  THE    STATE    OF   DOUBT. 


doubt  ?  It  is  the  independence  in  which  it  leaves 
us.  Every  conviction  binds  us,  and  we  are  so 
sensible  of  this  that  when  a  man  contradicts  his 
conviction  by  his  life,  we  condemn  him  without 
hesitancy  in  the  name  of  simple  morality.  Here 
is  the  source  of  the  best  founded  reproaches 
which  unbelievers  bring  against  Christians.  At 
the  least  show  of  weakness,  they  do  not  hesitate 
at  the  word  hypocrisy.  If  I  am  convinced  that 
Christianity  is  a  divine  revelation,  you  see  I  am 
obliged  to  follow  it:  if,  on  the  contrary,  I  only 
recognize  in  it  the  product  of  the  human  con- 
science, I  pass  judgment  on  it  freely  from  the 
height  of  my  reason.  But  between  these  two 
solutions  there  is  a  third,  to  wit,  doubt,  which 
leaves  me  free  to  go  to  the  Gospel  for  religious 
emotions,  and  to  think  of  it  what  I  please.  If  I 
believe  that  God  is  holy  and  that  He  desires 
holiness,  I  must  subdue  the  flesh,  watch  over  my 
ways,  and  suppress  evil  desires.  If  I  know  no 
other  check  than  the  easy  law  of  nature,  I  need 
not  ask  you  what  will  be  my  morals.  But  be- 
tween these  two  solutions,  there  is  doubt,  Avhich 
settles  nothing,  and  which  leaves  me  free  to  fol- 
low the  desires  of  my  heart.  If  I  believe  in  a 
crucified  Master  who  demands  of  me  sacrifice  and 


THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT.  223 


who  tells  me  that  selfishness  is  a  crime,  my  con- 
science will  reproach  me  for  everything  which 
has  respect  only  to  myself;  if  on  the  contrary 
I  exalt  only  self,  I  can  make  of  myself  the  centre 
of  my  life;  but  between  these  two  sides  there  is 
doubt,  which  lets  me  oscillate  between  selfish- 
ness and  self-denial  while  following  the  impulses 
of  nature. 

O  doubters  who  listen  to  me,  let  me  ask  you 
one  question.  You  have  within  you,  as  every 
man  has,  passions  which  you  know  well,  which 
you  know  by  the  wounds  they  have  made,  per- 
haps alas,  by  the  degrading  bondage  under  which 
they  hold  you  even  to-day.  You  know  their 
power  to  be  great,  I  presume,  and  you  are  not 
weak  enough  to  assert  that  they  in  no  way  in- 
fluence your  thoughts  or  your  decisions.  Well, 
if  these  passions  could  speak,  would  they  be  in 
favor  of  a  belief  which  proclaims  that  God  is 
just,  that  He  is  holy,  that  He  is  love,  and  that 
you  ought  to  belong  to  Him  } 

No,  it  is  not  true  that  doubt  is  always  painful, 
as  is  so  often  said  in  this  age  of  lying  senti- 
mentality. The  day  when  for  the  first  time 
in  the  life  of  a  young  man,  belief  in  duty  is 
shaken,    there    is    within    him    a    stupefaction,    I 


224  THE    STATE    OF   DOUBT. 


admit,  perhaps  a  dismay,  but  there  is  also  a 
vast  delight,  the  delight  of  revolt  and  of  false 
liberty.  Yes,  if  temptation  seduces  and  charms 
him,  I  tell  you  that  doubt  will  be  to  him  a  lib- 
erator whom  he  will  love,  whom  he  will  bless. 

Now  he  who  knows  his  own  heart,  who  knows 
with  what  repugnance  we  accept  the  yoke  of 
God,  with  what  eagerness  we  shake  it  off,  let 
him  tell  us  whether  doubt  has  not  its  fascina- 
tions }  Is  it  not  certain  that  the  will  feels  itself 
the  more  independent  in  proportion  as  faith  in 
God  becomes  more  vague  and  feeble;  for,  just 
as  when  the  sun  is  setting  our  shadow  on  the 
ground  grows  longer  and  larger,  so,  as  God 
sinks  toward  our  horizon,  our  place  on  earth 
expands.  Is  it  not  certain  that  all  the  unlaw- 
ful desires,  all  the  evil  powers  of  the  soul  love 
doubt,  as  wild  beasts  love  the  night  .■*  Is  it  not 
certain  that  nothing  eases  the  guilty  conscience 
so  much  as  a  pcrJiaps,  and  that  the  Tempter 
hurls  at  it,  in  every  crisis,  for  the  purpose  of 
calming  its  anguish  and  putting  to  sleep  its 
remorse,  the  words  which  ruined  the  first  man, 
"  What  !  did  God  indeed  say  it  t  " 

An  example  will  make  my  thought  clearer. 
Let  us  suppose  a  man  who  believes  in  the  Cos- 


THE    STATE    OF   DOUBT.  22 q 


pel,  and  meets  on  his  way  a  temptation  to  which 
he  yields  and  which  leads  him  astray.  At  this 
moment  two  opposing  paths  of  life  open  before 
him;  one  upward,  into  belief,  into  holiness;  the 
other  downward,  into  the  material,  into  disorder. 
What  shall  he  do  }  Alas  !  he  will  persevere  per- 
haps in  this  double  course,  numerous  experiences 
prove  it,  but  if  this  double-mindedness  shocks 
him,  there  remains  but  the  two  alternatives, 
either  to  sacrifice  his  life  to  his  faith,  or  to  sac- 
rifice his  faith  to  his  life.  The  first  is  heroism, 
that  heroism  which  makes  the  flesh  to  quiver 
and  which  Jesus  Christ  commands  to  His  disci- 
ples under  penalty  of  perdition:  "If  thine  eye 
make  thee  offend,  pluck  it  out  and  cast  it  from 
thee;  if  thy  hand  make  thee  offend,  cut  it  off  and 
cast  it  far  from  thee."  But  if  he  does  choose  not 
this  bloody  sacrifice,  what  will  he  do  inevitably  .'' 
He  will  shut  his  eyes  to  the  light  which  con- 
demns him,  and,  unable  to  deny  it,  he  will  try 
more  and  more  to  forget  it.  Let  doubt  come  ! 
He  will  welcome  it  with  a  secret  but  great  de- 
light, for  doubt  to  him  is  sin  unpunished,  it  is 
liberty  to  escape  from  God. 

I    know,    my  brethren,  how  humiliating   such 
thoughts  are  for  us.     There  are  some  who  will 


226  -THE    STATE    OF   DOUBT. 


see  in  them  insinuations  insulting  to  the  dig- 
nity of  man.  But  Jesus  Christ,  who  assured- 
ly does  not  insult  humanity,  has  too  often  re- 
turned to  this  subject  to  permit  us  to  neglect 
it;  and  I  add  that  there  is  not  a  Christian 
who  knows  himself  who  does  not  know  by  ex- 
perience how  closely  doubt  in  the  mind  affects 
the  character  of  the  life.  Now  it  is  to  this  exam- 
ination that  I  invite  you  in  addressing  to  you  the 
question  of  the  Saviour,  "Will  you  be  healed.'" 
If  in  all  sincerity  of  soul  you  wish  it,  what 
must  be  done  to  attain  it  t  Such  is  our  inquiry 
to-day;  but  even  here  a  point  detains  us.  We  are 
asked  if  there  is  really  anything  to  do  in  order 
to  escape  from  such  a  state.  It  is  said  to  us, 
"  By  your  own  acknowledgment,  faith  is  a  gift 
from  God.  Is  it  our  fault  if  we  have  not  received 
it  t  Does  it  depend  upon  us  to  believe  or  not  to 
believe  '^.  Can  we  change  the  nature  of  our  in- 
tellect, and  receive  as  true  that  which  seems  to 
us  untrue  V  The  remark  is  readily  added,  "You 
arc  very  fortunate  in  believing."  As  to  this  last 
assertion,  my  brethren,  I  would  like  to  admit 
that  it  is  always  sincere,  but  I  cannot  refrain 
from  saying  that  most  of  those  who  hold  this 
language,  in  reality  care  very  little  for  this  hap- 


THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT.  227 


piness  for  which  they  envy  us.  What  is  faith  in 
their  view  ?  It  is  the  portion  of  the  weak- 
minded,  of  the  immature  in  intelligence,  to 
whom  the  guardianship  of  authority  will  always 
be  necessary,  of  women,  of  children,  of  cowardly 
spirits,  of  souls  tired  and  torn  by  the  struggles  of 
life.  Faith,  in  their  view,  is  the  shade  needful  for 
eyes  too  feeble  to  bear  the  light  of  science  and 
reason.  Indeed,  for  the  moment  they  may  envy 
those  who  believe,  just  as  the  man  finds  pleasure 
in  regretting  the  candor  and  confidence  of  the 
child;  but  after  all,  since  they  imagine  that  their 
doubts  are  due  to  the  maturity  of  their  minds  and 
that  they  have  no  power  to  recede,  their  opinion 
on  this  subject  is  summed  up  in  the  well-known 
maxim,  that  one  believes  what  one  can.  Now  I 
wish  to  confront  this  thought,  and  just  as  I  have 
shown  you  the  part  which  the  will  plays  in  doubt, 
to  show  you  its  part  in  faith. 

There  is  here  a  fact  which  ought  to  strike 
you.  The  Gospel  commands  faith.  Now  the 
Gospel  respects  human  nature  ;  it  never  con- 
strains it,  it  never  does  it  violence;  it  asks  al- 
w'ays  a  voluntary  submission.  Yet  it  enjoins 
faith  as  it  enjoins  love.  We  are  surprised  at 
this,  say  all,  it  seems  to  us  strange,  impossible 


228  THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT. 


against  nature,  for  how  command  love,  how  com- 
mand faith  ?  We  love  whom  we  can.  We  be- 
lieve what  we  can.  This  seems  very  plausible  : 
and  yet,  that  one  of  all  books,  which  best  under- 
stands our  nature,  commands,  us  to  believe  and 
to  love.  And  observe  that  millions  of  souls  en- 
lightened, regenerated,  saved  by  the  Gospel, 
bless  it  for  making  it  their  duty  to  belieye  and 
to  love. 

Now  I  ask  you,  my  brethren,  whether  God 
coujd  enjoin  anything  upon  us  that  did  not  de- 
pend in  some  measure  upon  our  will.  Were  He 
to  do  so,  where  would  be  His  justice  }  Let  us 
follow  this  to  the  end.  Were  He  to  do  so,  the 
wicked  servant  in  the  parable  would  have  been 
right  when  he  cried  out,  "  Hard  and  cruel  mas- 
ter, thou  reapest  where  thou  hast  not  sown, 
thou   gatherest  where  thou  hast  not  strewn." 

But  what  if  I  should  show  you  my  brethren 
that  you  yourselves  agree  with  the  Gospel,  and 
that  you  are  constantly  affirming  what  it  teaches  .-' 
"  One  loves  whom  he  can,"  you  say.  Are  you 
very  sure  of  it  }  Is  that  the  language  you  use 
to  your  wayward  son,  when  evil  influences  have 
inflated  his  self-esteem  and  alienated  his  heart 
from,  you  .-'     And  when  one  to  whom  you  had  en- 


THE    STATE    OF   DOUBT.  229 


trusted  the  happiness  of  a  daughter — I  appeal  to 
any  father  who  hears  me — when  he  has  disen- 
chanted and  blasted  her  life,  betrayed  her  confi- 
dence and  alienated  her  heart  by  his  indifference 
and  cruelties,  do  you  accept  his  excuse  when  he 
pretends  that  one  loves  whom  he  can  ?  "  One 
loves  whom  he  can  !  "  Ah  !  I  understand  this 
maxim  in  the  mouths  of  the  advocates  of  loose 
marriages,  and  of  licentiousness  ;  I  understand 
it  among  those  who  see  nothing  in  love  but 
pleasure,  among  those  who  have  never  felt  all 
that  is  ideal  and  sacred  in  the  wife  and  mother. 

But  whoever  has  truly  loved  knows  that  love 
is  all  penetrated  with  respect  and  fidelity,  that 
it  engages  the  soul  with  holy  obligations.  Yes, 
this  wonderful  life  of  love,  in  which  you  see  at 
first  but  the  free  blooming  of  the  heart,  needs 
for  its  endurance  and  growth  and  increase,  the 
profound  and  serious  sentiment  of  fidelity;  just 
as  the  stream  needs  banks  to  confine  it  that  its 
pure  current  may  not  lose  itself  in  stagnant 
swamps;  just  as  at  the  hearth  a  watchful  hand 
is  needed  to  bring  together  the  coals  which  scat- 
ter and  would  ciie  out  apart.  Do  you  not  know 
this  }  Have  you  not  a  thousand  times  felt  the 
life  of  affection  revive  and  throw  out  a  briijhter 


230  THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT. 


gleam  when  the  will  interposes  to  subdue  the 
evil  movements  of  selfishness,  unjust  suspicions, 
mean  resentments;  when  it  bestirs  itself  to  re- 
store to  its  true  and  pure  home  the  heart  led 
astray  by  outward  seductions  and  by  the  temp- 
tations of  the  world  ?  Ah  !  the  Gospel  knows 
us  better  than  we  know  ourselves,  and  it  is  be- 
cause it  knows  us  so  well  that  it  commands  us 
to  love. 

Now  what  is  true  of  love  is  true  also  of  faith. 
See  that  man  !  he  is  at  the  age  when  ambition 
influences  him,  when  he  casts  upon  life  a  look 
of  vast  hope.  At  this  moment  temptation  awaits 
him;  his  future  is  made,  a  path  opens  before  him 
short  and  easy,  and  there,  but  two  steps  off,  is 
wealth,  success,  fame.  "  What  !  that  which  I 
have  so  long  dreamed  of,  that  goal  which  I  be- 
lieved lost  in  the  far  distance,  at  the  end  of  this 
rough  path  where  so  many  others  have  died  in 
the  attempt, — I  can  attain  it  to-morrow,  this 
prize  is  mine  !  I  have  only  to  stretch  out  my 
hand  !  "  Yes,  but  for  all  that,  there  is  for  that 
man  a  condition:  he  must  renounce  his  past  con- 
victions, he  must  trample  on  his  conscience.  "Is 
it  only  that .''  "  the  world  asks  him  with  its  cold  and 
cynical   laugh.     "Docs   not    success    absolve   for 


THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT.  23 1 


every  thing?"  He  hears  it  again, — and  the  strug- 
gle commences  in  his  soul,  the  struggle  and  the 
torment;  awhile,  it  is  the  night  of  temptation 
which  invades  him,  broken  by  blinding  light- 
nings; anon,  it  is  the  pure  light  of  truth.  But  if 
he  is  carried  away  by  the  world,  if  he  comes  out 
of  these  struggles  corrupted  and  conquered  by 
evil,  will  he  believe  in  duty  to-day  as  he  believed 
in  it  yesterday  ?  And  if  he  succumbs  before  a  new 
temptation,  do  you  not  see  that  these  successive 
defeats,  beating  on  his  soul  like  the  angry  waves 
of  the  raging  sea,  will  sweep  away  piece  by  piece 
all  the  beliefs  which  made  his  strength  and  his 
dignity.     The  will,  then,  can  act  on  faith. 

There  are  decisive  hours  when  we  are  bid- 
den more  than  ever  to  believe  in  all  those  re- 
alities which  can  be  neither  touched  nor  seen; 
and  which  are  called  honor,  duty,  conscience, 
humanity.  You  say,  "  One  believes  what  he 
can,"  and  every  day  you  bid  men  believe  that 
honor  is  worth  more  than  success,  dignity  more 
than  money,  self-sacrifice  more  than  self-love; 
and  when  scoffing  scepticism  answers  cynically 
that  experience  teaches  another  lesson,  you  re- 
ply, that  one  must  believe  in  the  good  and  that 
doub<-    here    is    criminal.     Thus,    you    acknowl- 


232  THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT. 


edge,  the  will  can  act  on  faith.  And  so  faith 
can  be  commanded.  Now,  this  is  exactly  what 
the  Gospel  says.  It  is  then  certain  that,  in  order 
to  get  out  of  your  state  of  doubt,  there  is  some- 
thing for  you  to  do.  It  remains  for  us  to  see 
what  it  is  which  must  be  done. 

I  will  say,  first  of  all,  search;  but  search  seri- 
ously; and  I  add,  search  not  with  your  intellect 
alone,  but  with  your  conscience  and  your  heart. 
I  know  that  when  we  say  this  we  shall  be  readily 
accused  of  practising  mysticism  and  reproached 
for  sacrificing  reason.  My  brethren,  I  have  no 
thought  of  sacrificing  reason;  it  has  its  place  in 
religion,  and  I  have  never  found  that  it  was 
depreciated  or  degraded  in  the  school  of  Jesus 
Christ.  We  must  love  science  sincerely,  without 
reserve,  and  as  it  has  no  dignity  except  when  it  is 
independent,  we  must  respect  its  liberty.  Have 
we  not  moreover  the  history  of  all  fanaticisms  to 
recall  to  us  the  errors  of  the  religious  sentiment 
when  it  separates  itself  violently  from  reason } 

I  know  that  unbelief  says  boldly  that  science 
destroys  faith,  and  that  not  a  few  believers  trem- 
blingly whisper  the  same.  But  what  docs  that 
prove.  When  it  is  told  you  for  example  that 
science  demonstrates  that  the  human  soul  is  a 


THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT.  233 


pure  hypothesis,  and  that  moral  Hberty  is  a  pure 
delusion,  do  you  believe  it  ?  Has  science  spoken 
her  last  word  to  the  materialists  ?  Has  she  com- 
missioned unbelief  to  be  her  authentic  interpreter? 
Is  this  peremptory  and  arrogant  language  the 
tone  by  which  she  is  to  be  recognized  ?  Let  us 
not  be  disturbed  by  these  assertions,  my  brethren. 
Let  them  not  provoke  us  to  a  foolish  reaction; 
let  them  never  make  us  sneer  at  or  depreciate 
the  human  intellect.  Let  us  remember  above  all 
that  in  such  a  matter  anger  and  fear  are  unwor- 
thy of  a  believing  soul,  and  that  the  invectives 
they  prompt  weigh  no  more  than  a  hair  in  the 
balance,  against  contrary  arguments. 

It  cannot  then  be  a  question  of  depreciating 
the  intellect;  but  when  we  say  that  in  order  to 
return  to  God,  the  heart  and  the  conscience  are 
the  shortest  and  surest  roads,  we  have  reasons 
for  this  which  we  beg  you  to  examine  seriously. 
I  will  only  name  three  of  them,  which  ought, 
it  seems  to  me,  to  strike  every  candid  man. 

I  say  first  that,  if  there  is  religious  truth,  it 
ought  to  be  accessible  to  men  of  every  degree  of 
culture  and  of  every  position.  Now,  this  condi- 
tion is  absolutely  impossible,  if  it  is  the  intellect 
pre-eminently  which  must  grasp  the   truth,  for 


234  THE    STATE    OE   DOUBT. 


nothing  is  more  unequal  than  gifts  of  intellect, 
nothing  more  arbitrarily  distributed.  I  say  that 
there  would  be  something  revolting  in  this  new 
kind  of  predestination  which  would  make  the 
knowledge  of  God  dependent  upon  the  degree 
of  culture,  that  is  to  say,  in  the  vast  majority 
of  cases,  upon  the  happy  chance  of  fortune  and 
education.  I  say  that  you  do  not  believe  in  such 
a  religion,  and  that,  at  all  events,  humanity 
would  never  want  it.  Now,  mark  well,  it  must 
be  wanted,  if  it  is  the  intellect  above  all  which 
leads  to  God.  On  the  contrary,  appeal  to  the 
heart,  to  the  conscience;  here,  you  are  on  the 
broad  ground  of  equality  before  God.  Of  what 
value  are  birth  and  fortune  here  }  Well,  it  is  by 
these  great  pathways  that  the  God  of  Jesus 
Christ,  who  is  the  Father  of  all  without  respect 
of  persons,  means  us  to  come  to  Him. 

Oh  !  how  I  can  understand  the  rapture  of 
Pascal  writing  with  tears  of  joy  on  the  night 
when  he  returned  to  God:  "God  of  Abraham, 
of  Isaac,  and  of  Jacob,  not  of  philosophers  and 
savants."  Noble  tears  of  a  genius  who  had 
learned  to  know  that  God  reveals  Himself  to 
the  heart,  noble  tears  which  recall  to  me  the 
rapture  of  a  greater  than  Pascal,   of  Him  who 


THE    STATE    OF   DOUBT.  235 


exclaimed  with  bursting  joy,  "I  praise  Thee,  O 
Father,  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  that  Thou 
hast  hid  these  things  from  the  wise  and  prudent 
and  hast  revealed   them  unto  babes." 

Such  is  my  first  reason;  the  second  is  this:  If 
God  exists  it  is  evident  that  our  relation  to  Him 
must  be  one  of  dependence  and  humility.  Now, 
I  remark  that  the  intellect  alone  does  not  pro- 
duce these  dispositions.  Why .-'  Because  the 
intellect  examines,  criticises,  and  judges:  these 
are  its  proper  functions.  Now,  it  is  the  tendency 
of  him  who  judges  to  place  himself  above  him 
who  is  judged,  or  at  least  on  a  relation  of  equality 
with  him.  Is  it  after  this  manner,  I  ask  you,  that 
he  can  meet  God  }  Let  me  suppose  a  man  thus 
approaching  the  Gospel;  he  studies  the  history 
of  Jesus  Christ;  it  is  to  him,  if  you  will,  a  sub- 
ject of  great  and  curious  interest;  he  examines, 
he  wonders,  he  compares;  then  he  perceives  that 
between  one  gospel  and  another,  there  arises  a 
first  difference,  then  a  second;  he  meets  here 
and  there  supernatural  facts  which  evidently  he 
cannot  accept;  he  concludes  that  it  is  almost 
impossible  to  accept  the  authenticity  of  the 
sacred  narrative.  For  him  the  question  is  set- 
tled, the  Gospel  is  judged,  and  in  good  faith  he 


236  THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT. 


believes    the   problem    solved,    for    he    has    only 
seen  here  a  question  of   historical   criticism. 

But  here  is  another  man  who  seeks  the  truth 
with  sorrow,  with  anguish;  he  suffers  and  he 
feels  himself  guilty.  Will  you  say  that  these  are 
unfavorable  conditions  for  reaching  the  truth  ? 
Yes,  apparently,  if  it  were  a  question  of  mathe- 
matics; but  for  this  man  it  is  a  question  of  know- 
ing the  law  of  his  destiny,  it  is  a  question  of 
knowing  whether  his  life  is  ruled  by  fatality  or 
by  the  love  of  God.  Will  you  say  that  he  has 
not  a  right  to  try  to  satisfy  his  conscience  and  his 
heart .''  What  !  you  admit  that  he  is  solving  all 
problems,  and  that  he  should  leave  unsolved 
the  very  ones  which  disturb  the  lowest  depths 
of  his  being  !  By  what  right  would  you  forbid 
him .''  Now,  this  man  opens  the  Gospel,  he  lis- 
tens to  Jesus  Christ,  and  lo,  he  understands  what 
God  is  for  him,  and  what  he  should  be  toward 
God.  To  the  ideal  of  holiness  which  Jesus 
Christ  presents  to  him,  his  conscience  responds 
with  a  profound  consent.  "Yes,"  he  says  to  him- 
self, "if  God  exists,  this  is  just  what  He  must 
ask  of  me  !  "  But  what  a  distance  between  that 
ideal  and  his  life  !  He  recognizes  it  sadly,  and 
the  cause  of  his  miseries  and  his  sufferings  ap- 


THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT.  237 


pears  to  him  clear  and  distinct.  He  feels  him- 
self guilty;  the  more  he  studies  himself,  the 
more  has  he  need  of  pardon,  and  when  this  par- 
don is  presented  to  him  in  its  magnificence  and 
holiness,  he  believes  in  it,  he  accepts  it,  because 
this  is  what  he  needs. 

I  have  traced  here  the  history  of  more  than 
one  of  those  who  hear  me.  It  is  just  in  this  way 
we  are  brought  back  to  God;  our  troubled  con- 
science, our  heart  deceived  by  the  world  have 
led  us  back  to  Him  more  surely  and  more  quickly 
than  reason  would  have  done.  Well  !  when  we 
have  re-entered  by  this  path  into  order,  into  the 
true  life  of  obedience  and  of  a  holy  love,  who 
will  dare  tell   us  that  we   are  deceived  } 

Thus,  in  the  name  of  the  Gospel,  in  the  name 
of  the  experience  of  all  believing  souls,  we  say 
again  to  those  who  are  seeking  God:  Search,  but 
remember  that  the  God  of  truth  does  not  reveal 
himself  to  curious  minds.  Quit  that  lofty  atti- 
tude from  the  height  of  which  you  pretend  to 
dictate  to  Him  the  conditions  upon  which  you 
will  deign  to  surrender  yourselves.  Listen  to 
the  voice  within  which  accuses  you;  listen  to  the 
deep  unrest,  the  groanings  of  your  heart  which 
longs  for  pardon,   for  love   and  for  peace;  bow 


238  THE    STATE    OF   DOUBT. 


yourselves  as  sinners,  before  the  God  of  holi- 
ness, humble  yourselves,  for  this  becomes  you; 
it  is  to  the  humble,  the  Scripture  has  said,  that 
the  Almighty  points  out  the  path  which  leads 
to  Himself. 

My  third  reason  is  this.  If  there  is  religious 
truth,  it  ought  to  make  us  better.  You  think 
as  I  do,  for  a  thousand  observations  which  es- 
cape you  proceed  from  this  principle,  and  when- 
ever you  see  injustice,  pride  and  avarice  allied 
to  religion  you  pronounce  thereupon  a  sentence 
which  accords  with  what  I  assert.  Yes,  religion 
ought  to  make  us  better;  and  this  recalls  to  me 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  sayings  of  antiquity. 

Socrates  was  talking  with  one  of  his  disciples, 
and  by  one  of  those  prophetic  flashes  which 
strike  us  in  his  teachings,  he  announced  that 
one  day  a  personage  would  come  who  would  re- 
veal what  God  is.  "Let  Him  come,  let  Him 
come,"  replied  his  disciple,  "  let  Him  command 
me  as  He  will.  I  will  do  everything,  provided 
He  makes  me  better!  "  Admirable  word  !  Pro- 
vided that  He  make  me  better.  Ah  !  he  who 
said  that,  was  not  far  from  the  kingdom  of 
heaven.  Well,  what  is  the  shortest  way  to  make 
ourselves  better,  to  transform  ourselves,  to  sane- 


THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT.  239 


tify  ourselves  ?  Will  you  hesitate  to  reply  ?  Do 
you  not  see  every  day  men  who  know  and  do 
not,  men  capable  of  admiring  everything  even 
the  purest  sacrifices,  and  incapable  themselves 
of  sacrificing  anything.  And  you  yourselves, 
have  you  not  groaned  to  see  how  mere  knowl- 
edge is  powerless  to  change  the  will  ?  You  saw 
the  good,  but  you  were  incapable  of  doing  it. 
You  contemplated  holiness,  and  you  remained 
slaves  to  evil  desires.  It  is  that  you  lacked  the 
inspiration;  it  is  that  to  ask  knowledge  alone  to 
change  the  man  is  to  ask  the  pale  winter  sun 
to  ripen  the  fruit,  and  make  the  harvest  golden. 
It  is  the  heart  that  must  be  touched.  It  is  to 
the  heart  that  the  God  of  the  Gospel  speaks, 
because,  as  the  Scriptures  so  admirably  express 
it,  "  out  of  the  heart  are  the  issues  of  life." 
— Prov.  iv.  23. 

I  have  shown  the  part  which  the  heart  takes 
in  the  search  after  truth. 

Now,  the  heart,  my  brethren,  has  its  own 
language,  and  this  language  is  called  prayer. 
Does  the  heart  deceive  itself  when  it  thirsts  for 
love,  and  when  it  believes  that  infinite  love  can 
hear  and  answer  it  .■*  Are  you  sure  that  the 
heavens  are  empty  ?     Were  those  deceivers  who, 


240  THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT. 


before  you  and  in  your  own  day,  have  accom- 
plished the  hoHest  work,  the  most  difficult  self- 
sacrifice,  and  who  say  that  their  strength  was 
drawn  from  that  secret  spring  of  prayer  ?  We 
weary  ourselves  with  vain  reasonings,  we  ask 
ourselves,  whence  we  come  and  whither  we  go; 
but  can  we  not  say  these  words,  '*  O  thou  who 
has  made  us,  deign  to  deliver  me  from  my 
doubt  and  misery  ?  "  Who  cannot  pray  thus  ? 
Who  is  not  inexcusable,  if  he  does  not  try  to 
found  his  faith  on  prayer  ? 

"Indeed,  prayer  is  ever  on  our  lips  in  our 
intercourse  with  our  fellow  men.  God  has  not 
intended  that  we  should  be  sufficient  unto 
ourselves;  and  in  like  manner  it  has  been  His 
will  to  give  us  that  by  which  our  mutual  needs 
may  be  satisfied,  in  such  a  way  that  we  may 
always  be  subject  to  asking  and  being  asked."  ^ 
Every  human  society  rests  thus  upon  mutual  de- 
pendence, and  prayer  forms  the  very  woof  of  it; 
it  passes  continually  from  one  to  the  other, 
knitting  between  us  ties  of  sympathy,  of  obliga- 
tion, of  gratitude,  of  reconciliation,  of  reciprocal 
condescension.  A  society  without  prayer — have 
you  ever  thought  of  it .'' — would  be  barbarism,  it 

»  Aug.  Nicolas,  "The  Art  of  Dclicviiiij,"  II.  83. 


THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT.  241 


would  be  the  isolation  of  selfishness  and  death. 
You  feel  it,  and  yet  you,  who  pray  to  men,  do  not 
understand  that  you  must  pray  to  God,  and  that 
here  in  this  dependence  so  reasonable  of  the 
creature  upon  the  Creator,  of  the  sinner  upon 
Him  who  pardons,  of  the  child  upon  his  Father, 
is  found  the  source  of  life,  of  light,  and  of  truth. 
Believe  in  your  heart,  which  calls  upon  God, 
which  brings  His  name  to  your  lips  in  all  your 
griefs.  Seek  God,  follow  Him,  ask  and  it  shall 
be  given  you. 

I  have  told  you  how  you  must  seek  for  God. 
To  this  first  counsel  I  add  another.  Place  your- 
self in  direct  contact  with  Jesus  Christ  who  alone 
has  revealed  God  to  us.  How  many  doubts  will 
then  vanish  imperceptibly  !  First  of  all,  intel- 
lectual doubts.  You  had  compared  systems,  dis- 
cussed contrary  arguments,  and  in  this  chaos  of 
opposite  opinions  you  fluctuated  irresolute,  but 
you  were  brought  near  to  the  Master,  you  heard 
Him,  and  a  calm  ensued.  Whence  did  it  come  .-* 
From  the  prestige  or  the  eloquence  of  His  word  } 
You  had  no  thought  of  it;  it  was  the  radiance 
of  the  truth  directly  penetrating  your  heart;  His 
words  fell  upon  you  with  an  accent  of  irresistible 
authorit}';  even  as  He  spoke,  it  seemed  to  you 


242  THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT. 


that  .the  sky  opened  and  unrolled  itself  before 
your  eyes.  How  many  the  doubts  and  objections 
which  have  thus  fallen  at  the  feet  of  Jesus  Christ 
in  the  hour  of  sorrow,  of  mourning  and  death, 
just  when  human  words  are  so  absolutely  power- 
less !  How  many  souls  comforted  by  His  simple 
touch  !  It  has  been  truly  said,  that  one  is  not 
warmed  simply  by  knowing  what  elements  com- 
pose the  sun  and  by  what  laws  it  shines  upon  us. 
Better  a  thousand  times  to  put  one's  self  under 
its  rays.  It  is  the  same  with  the  Sun  of  souls. 
And  it  is  also  by  the  light  of  Jesus  Christ  that 
you  will  see  the  doubts  vanish  which  come  to 
you  from  the  view  of  life  and  the  apparent  fatal- 
ity of  things. 

I  have  shown  you  how  this  view  disturbs 
faith;  first  in  seeing  the  life  of  Christians,  in 
witnessing  their  faults  and  their  falls,  the  con- 
clusion is  drawn  that  the  Gospel  is  without  in- 
fluence; and  then  in  seeing  them  left  like  others 
to  the  thousand  hazards  which  seem  like  chance 
— it  is  concluded  that  God  does  not  interpose 
in  their  destiny.  Well!  do  you  not  feel  that 
these  doubts  will  surely  disappear  for  him  who 
is  in  close  communion  with  Jesus  Christ,  who 
thinks    of  Him    and    listers   to    Him .''     He   will 


THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT.  243 


be  the  first  doubtless  ^to  see  the  faults  of  Chris- 
tians, he  will  deplore  them,  he  will  grieve  over 
them,  but  they  will  never  make  the  believer 
forget  the  splendor,  the  moral  beauty  which 
he  sees  in  Jesus  Christ  Himself.  Yes,  I  confess, 
it,  the  miseries  of  believers,  their  meanness, 
their  sordid  passions,  their  harshness,  their  bitter 
judgments,  are  one  of  the  mysteries  which  most 
painfully  perplex  us;  but,  shall  I  say  it,  it  is 
when  seeing  how  imperfect  the  best  are,  how 
under  the  most  benign  influences  the  heart  can 
become  hard,  that  the  Gospel  seems  to  me 
so  much  the  more  beautiful,  sublime  and  di- 
vine. This  atmosphere  so  serene  and  so  pure, 
I  feel  that  it  does  not  rise  from  here  below, 
that  it  verily  descends  from  the  skies.  And  as 
to  the  doubts  which  come  from  the  apparent 
fatality  to  which  God  abandons  us,  who  can  bet- 
ter forewarn  us  against  them  than  the  Gospel } 
Is  it  not  here  that  we  are  continually  brought 
face  to  face  with  the  plan  of  God  in  our  educa- 
tion .''  Is  it  not  here  that  we  learn  to  walk  by  faith 
and  not  by  sight }  Where  are  illusions  encour- 
aged in  the  Gospel  .''  When  have  you  ever  seen  a 
page  of  it,  even  a  line,  painting  your  existence  in 
false  colors  and  warranting  you  to  count  upon  out- 


244  THE    STATE    OF   DOUBT. 


ward  signs  radiant  with  Divine  agency?  When 
have  you  seen  here  that  the  multitude  would 
be  on  the  side  of  truth,  that  the  Christian  life 
would  be  easy,  that  the  church  would  escape  the 
humiliating  conditions  which  the  miseries  and 
weaknesses  of  her  own  children  joined  to  the  op- 
position of  the  world  make  for  her  ? 

Disciples  of  the  nineteenth  century,  remember 
the  first  disciples,  remember  the  trouble  which 
filled  their  souls  when  they  saw  their  Master 
crucified;  remember  their  distress,  their  discour- 
agement, their  bitter  despair.  And  yet,  did  the 
Master  hide  that  death  from  them  ?  Did  He  ever 
proclaim  to  them  success  and  popularity  ?  Had 
He  not  often  held  up  before  their  eyes  His 
bloody  cross  ?  Yes,  if  they  had  remembered 
His  words  at  the  critical  hour,  they  would  not 
have  doubted;  but,  infatuated  by  their  own 
dreams  of  earthly  grandeur,  they  did  not  even 
listen  to  Him.  Disciples  of  to-day,  how  many 
of  your  doubts  would  disappear  if  you  knew  how 
to  wait  at  the  feet  of  the  Master  and  listen  to 
Him.? 

I  have  tried  to  point  out  to  you,  my  brethren, 
how  you  can  regain  Christian  truth  when  it  is 
hidden    to   your   eyes.     I    have    shown   you    the 


THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT.  245 


paths  by  which  many  prodigals  have  returned  to 
their  Father's  house.  Before  leaving  this  subject 
there  are  yet  two  counsels  I  would  like  to  give 
you. 

The  first,  which  I  have  already  given  when 
speaking  of  convictions  in  general,  and  which 
appears  to  me  even  more  necessary  when  the 
question  is  as  to  Christian  faith,  is  this:  when 
your  beliefs  are  shaken  upon  a  point,  even  upon 
an  important  point,  take  care  that  you  do  not 
thence  conclude,  by  a  blind  and  hasty  logic, 
that  your  entire  faith  must  be  involved  in  the 
fall  of  one  of  your  convictions.  Hold  fast,  ra- 
ther, then,  more  than  ever,  the  truths  in  which 
you  yet  believe,  and  live  up  to  what  remains  to 
you  while  waiting  to  recover  what  you  have  lost. 
I  know  that  this  is  not  the  way  in  which  many 
believers  regard  it.  It  is  a  very  popular  saying 
with  certain  men  of  authority,  and  one  that  un- 
belief loves  to  repeat,  "All  or  nothing."  All 
truth,  or  absolutQ  doubt;  all  light,  or  all  dark- 
ness. I  know  this  maxim,  and  in  the  name  of 
the  Gospel  and  of  experience,  I  call  it  a  misera- 
ble sophism. 

They  tell  us,  "  Truth  is  one  !  No  one  has  the 
right  not  to  accept  the  whole  of  it;  who  touches 


246  THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT. 


one  stone  makes  the  whole  edifice  totter."  Yes, 
without  doubt  truth  is  one  in  itself;  but  truth  in 
itself  is  one  thing,  the  truth  in  the  mind  of  him 
who  receives  it  is  another.  Now,  do  we  receive 
the  whole  of  it  in  a  day  .■'  Are  you  to-day  where 
you  were  yesterday  !  Have  we,  you  and  I,  ap- 
prehended the  same  truth  in  the  same  manner  } 
We  must  always  return  here  to  the  example  of 
the  Master.  How  did  Jesus  form  His  disciples  } 
Did  He  impose  upon  them  truth  in  subjecting 
them  to  His  authority }  Did  He  bow  their 
heads  and  their  hearts  under  an  inflexible  sys- 
tem .''  Undoubtedly  He  commands  them  to  be- 
lieve, and  a  moment  ago  I  showed  you  why. 
But  is  that  a  forced  belief.'*  And  do  you  not 
remember  at  the  same  time  His  wonderful  con- 
descension. His  respect  for  the  human  soul,  the 
Divine  patience  with  which  He  bears  the  errors 
of  His  disciples,  their  failures,  their  prejudices, 
their  backslidings, — that  patience  which  never 
failed  Him,  but  when  He  sees  obstinate  unbelief, 
when  He  must  needs  cry  out,  "  O  faithless  and 
perverse  generation,  how  long  shall  I  bear  with 
you  .''  "  Is  faith  with  Him  the  full-grown  tree  .''  Is 
it  not  rather  the  grain  of  mustard  seed  which  must 
slowly  ripen  and  germinate  ?     Did  all  those  who 


THE    STATE    OF   DOUBT.  247 


followed  Him  at  once  understand  Him  in  the 
same  way  ?  Thomas  and  Philip,  did  they  think 
all  at  once  as  Peter  thought,  and  feel  as  John  the 
beloved  apostle  felt  ?  And  the  training  to  which 
the  Master  subjected  them,  ought  it  not  to  show 
us  in  every  age  how  sincere  souls  reach  the 
truth  ? 

And  yet  men  go  on  saying,  "  all  or  noth- 
ing," and  we  have  the  sorrow  of  seeing,  in 
France,  souls  vacillating  between 'absolute  un- 
belief and  a  religious  system  which  logically 
applied  would  take  us  back  to  the  Middle  Ages  ! 
Behold  that  young  man  until  now  quietly  bend- 
ing beneath  the  yoke  of  the  Church;  one  day  in 
his  studies,  he  learns  that  the  court  of  Rome 
solemnly  condemned  Galileo  and  repudiated  the 
detestable  error  of  the  movement  of  the  earth. 
That  is  enough  !  For  him,  that  day,  Christi- 
anity is  wholly  shaken — the  Gospel,  its  hopes, 
its  teachings,  Jesus  Christ  and  His  cross,  even 
moral  life  itself,  all  totter  before  his  eyes,  all 
plunge  into  the  void  of  a  universal  scepticism. 

Well,  we  must  say  it  boldly  that  this  is 
folly,  we  must  reject  such  a  method  which 
in  enforcing  truth  spreads  unbelief  and  death. 
What  !     Because   upon   one   point   your  faith   is 


248  THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT. 


troubled,  will  you  abandon  all  the  rest  ?  Be- 
cause in  the  Old  Testament  you  meet  with  facts 
which  surprise  you  and  which  confound  you,  will 
you  cease  to  bow  before  Jesus  Christ  ?  Because 
in  the  teaching  of  Christ  Himself,  there  are  some 
words  before  which  you  stop  hesitatingly,  will 
you  listen  to  it  no  more  ?  No  !  no  !  my  brother, 
you  will  not  do  it.  On  the  contrary,  in  these  di- 
vine words,  you  will  grasp  those  which  touch  your 
heart  by  an  irresistible  evidence,  you  will  walk 
by  the  light  which  is  given  you,  you  will  re- 
member that  to  him  who  has  shall  be  given, 
you  will  not  hide  your  talent  because  you  have 
received  but  one  ;  faithful  in  the  little  you 
have  received  you  will  receive  more,  and  who 
knows  but  that  one  day  you  will  precede  us  in 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  ? 

Finally  I  say  to  you,  and  it  is  with  this  I  will 
close,  act  according  to  your  faith,  do  the  works 
of  your  faith.  You  believe  that  God  is  holy, 
and  that  your  life  should  be  pure;  you  believe 
that  God  is  love  and  that  we  must  love  even 
to  sacrifice;  do  this,  and  I  venture  to  say  to 
you,  that  to-morrow  you  will  have  more  faith.  I 
remember  what  my  Master  replied  to  those  who 
came  to  Him  and  asked  Him  what  they  must  do 


THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT.  249 

I 

to  obtain  everlasting  life.  "  Fulfil  the  law,"  said 
He  to  them.  It  is  not  that  any  one  is  able  to 
do  this.  And  if  we  could,  why  should  Jesus 
Christ  have  come  on  earth,  why  the  cross,  why 
redemption.''  But  is  it  not  in  seeking  to  fulfil  the 
law  to  the  end,  that  one  learns  to  understand 
one's  self,  to  sound  his  misery,  to  despair  of  his 
strength,  and  to  demand  a  Saviour  .-*  Candid 
doubter  who  listens  to  me,  I  have  often  heard 
you  say  that  if  there  was  nothing  in  the  Gospel 
but  the  sermon  on  the  mount,  you  would  accept 
it  wholly.  Now  I  take  you  at  your  word,  and  I 
say  to  you:  carry  out  the  sermon  on  the  mount, 
and  if  you  do  it  faithfully,  I  will  await  the  re- 
sult, and  I  will  meet  you  humbled,  repentant, 
and  Christian. 

Yes,  suffer  for  truth  and  righteousness,  become 
poor  in  your  own  eyes,  try  to  pardon  those  who 
offend  you  and  to  love  them,  avoid  not  only  the 
crime  but  the  evil  desire,  the  first,  appearance 
of  hatred  and  the  unchaste  look;  hide  in  the 
darkness  thy  beneficence;  pray  in  secret;  be,  in 
a  word,  if  thou  canst,  perfect  as  your  heavenly 
Father  is  perfect;  and  then  come  to-morrow  and 
tell  us  like  the  rich  young  man,  "all  these  things 
have  I  done,"  and  I  will   reply,  "yet  one  thing 


250  THE    STATE    OF  DOUBT. 


thou  lackest:  go  and  free  thyself  from  the  il- 
lusions which  blind  thee.  Foolish  man,  thou 
thinkest  thou  hast  fulfilled  the  law,  and  seest 
not  that  thou  art  poor  and  miserable  and  naked." 

Yes,  take  the  law  in  earnest,  and  in  the  name 
of  the  Gospel,  in  the  name  of  all  men  who 
through  the  law  have  arrived  at  grace,  I  will 
say  to  thee,  "  Obey  the  truth,  and  the  truth 
shall  make  thee  free."  Jesus  Christ  said,  "  He 
who  follows  me  shall  not  walk  in  darj:ness." 
He  did  not  say,  "  He  who  looks  at  me,"  He 
said,  "  He  who  follows  me." 

Follow  Him,  my  brethren,  in  humility,  in  self- 
denial,  in  sacrifice.  Then,  convinced  of  all  you 
lack,  weak,  burdened  with  the  sense  of  your  mis- 
ery, you  will  call  for  deliverance  and  you  will 
seek  for  pardon;  then  to  you  will  be  fulfilled  the 
words  of  my  text,  "Unto  the  upright  there  aris- 
eth  light  in  the  darkness."     Amen. 


X. 

©iscouraçjrmrnt 


X. 

ÎBisrouraçjrmcnt, 

"  T  have  labored  in  vain,  I  have  spent  my  strength  for  naught  and 
in  vain;  yet  surely  my  judgment  is  with  the  Lord,  and  îiiy  work  with 
my  God.'''' — Isaiah  xlix,  4. 

Each  epoch  has  its  special  temptations  and 
trials.  In  the  spiritual  as  in  the  physical  world 
we  find  at  certain  times  widely  prevailing  dis- 
eases, so  much  the  more  formidable  because 
while  all  are  subjected  to  their  influence,  none 
perceives  the  whole  danger  of  it.  Now,  for 
Christians  of  to-day,  one  of  these  maladies  is 
discouragement. 

Discouragement  !  not  in  that  acute  and  pas- 
sionate form  which  strikes  us  in  the  bitter  and 
despairing  complaints  of  the  prophets  and  be- 
lievers of  other  centuries.  We  know  little  of 
those  inner  dramas,  those  outburstings  of  great 


2  54  DISCOURAGEMENT. 


souls  deceived  by  the  heart-rending  spectacle  of 
life  and  of  the  world.  We  suffer  from  a  less  vio- 
lent ill,  less  dangerous  in  appearance,  but  dull, 
slow,  and  treacherous. 

Many  causes  explain  it  to  us.  The  human  mind, 
in  its  progressive  march,  passes  by  turns  through 
phases  of  assurance  and  of  disturbance.  There 
are  centuries  when  one  sees  truths  generally  ac- 
cepted, which  suffice  fully  for  thought  and  action. 
Such  for  example  was  the  seventeenth  century 
when  in  the  social  order,  monarchical  traditions, 
— in  the  religious  order,  the  authority  of  the 
Church  with  Catholics,  that  of  the  Bible  with 
Protestants, — were  the  very  elements  of  every- 
day life.  And  so,  though  in  an  entirely  opposite 
sense,  was  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century — 
when  confidence  in  the  sovereignty  of  human 
reason,  in  the  natural  goodness  of  man,  in  his 
endless  progress,  intoxicated  minds  and  hearts, 
even  to  the  moment  when  Terror,  in  its  dread- 
ful explosion,  showed  what  there  was  undcrl)-ing 
these  dreams. 

There  are  other  centuries,  when,  far  from  be- 
lieving and  affirming,  man,  disconcerted,  stops 
and  seeks  out  his  path.  What  had  been  ac- 
cepted   hitherto    no    longer    suffices    him.      lie 


DISCOURAGEMENT.  255 


wants  to  analyze,  to  sift,  to  call  in  question 
everything'.  This  tendency  in  itself  is  legiti- 
mate, but  it  has  its  dangers.  The  property  of 
analysis  is  to  decompose  the  objects  which  it 
studies.  Now  it  is  evident  that  the  analytical 
spirit,  if  it  predominate  exclusively,  is  fatal  to 
the  creative  spirit,  to  enthusiasm,  to  religious 
faith,  to  all  those  impulses  by  which  the  soul 
instinctively  seizes  the  sublimest  truths.  Take 
it  then  for  certain  that  at  an  epoch  when  anal- 
ysis is  carried  to  excess,  the  vital  powers  of  the 
soul  become  weak  and  are  in  danger  of  dying. 
Now,  one  of  the  first  fruits  of  this  tendency  in 
religious  minds,  will  be  languor.  How  can  one 
love,  act  and  believe,  when  at  each  of  its  aspira- 
tions the  soul  finds  planted  before  it  a  perhaps; 
when  in  every  man,  beneath  the  heart  which 
feels  and  would  fain  live,  there  is  the  inquisi- 
tive reason  which  discusses,  which  staggers,  and 
scoffs  } 

If  this  spirit  of  analysis  is  destructive  to  in- 
dividual enthusiasm,  it  acts  in  a  still  more  ener- 
vating  manner  upon  the  collective  life.  Nothing 
is  more  rare  to-day  than  energetic  action  under 
common  impulses.  The  Church,  like  society,  di- 
vides itself  up.     Every  one  asserts  his  independ- 


256  DISCO  URA  G  EM E  NT. 


X 


ence,  his  right  to  examine;  and  often  the  spirit 
of  party  alone  replaces  the  unity  which  disap- 
pears. I  do  not  pass  sentence  upon  this  ten- 
dency; I  believe  it  providential,  necessary.  I  be- 
lieve that  the  external  or  wholly  political  bonds 
which  have  hitherto  united  souls  in  the  same 
Church  by  right  of  birth  and  of  tradition,  should 
be  broken,  and  that  in  future  it  is  upon  the 
ground  of  a  common  faith  that  unity  should  be 
sought. 

But  without  enlarging  upon  this  thought  which 
does  not  fall  in  Avith  my  subject,  I  affirm  that 
this  dull  process  of  disintegration  disturbs  us 
all;  that,  born  to  be  members  of  a  spiritual 
famil}',  made  to  love,  to  believe  and  suffer  with 
sister  souls,  and  feeling  all  our  moral  strength 
multiplied  tenfold  by  sympathy,  we  do  not  pass 
unscathed  through  our  era;  impulse  fails  us,  and 
for  want  of  being  drawn  on  by  one  of  those  vast 
currents  of  life  and  of  zeal  which  have  often 
swept  over  the  world,  we  fall  into  apathy  and 
discouragement. 

That  is  not  all.  Our  age  has  another  char- 
acter; it  is,  it  wants  to  be,  practical.  The  enor- 
mous progress  of  exact  sciences  and  the  wonders 
of  invention    attract    niiiids    with    strange    force 


DISCOUR  A  G  E  MENT.  257 


toward  this  lower  world.  Men  believ-e  in  what 
they  touch,  in  what  they  feel.  A  scorn  scarcely 
dissembled  confronts  inquiries  which  reach  be- 
yond the  world  of  sense  or  of  pure  logic.  The 
supernatural  passes  for  mysticism,  and  this  word, 
with  many,  is  a  condemnation  without  appeal. 

This  tendency  reacts  on  the  Church.  It  is 
certain  that  the  same  utilitarianism  is  invad- 
ing it.  A  religion  of  facts  and  of  sentiments 
is  desired.  When  preaching  sets  forth  pre-emi- 
nently the  great  Christian  doctrines,  when  it 
shows  the  divine  supernatural  side  of  revealed 
truths,  it  loses  its  interest.  Our  hearers,  without 
knowing  it,  wish  to  have  to  do  with  man  rather 
than  with  God.  If  we  speak  to  them  of  them- 
selves, of  their  struggles,  of  their  doubts,  of 
their  temptations,  of  their  sorrows,  their  sym-  ^ 
pathy  and  emotion  are  awakened.  If  we  fathom 
the  revealed  doctrine,  their  interest  languishes. 
But  this,  believe  it,  is  fatal  to  the  soul.  It  is 
neither  good  nor  healthful  for  man  to  dwell  too 
long  upon  himself;  it  is  not  thence  that  he  will 
ever  draw  strength  and  elevation.  The  Gospel 
has  wonderfully  understood  this,  since  it  tends 
always  to  lift  our  thoughts  on  high  toward 
"the  hills  from   whence   cometh  our  help";  on 


2^S  DISCO  URA  G  E  ME  NT. 


high,  that  is,  toward  the  upper  world,  toward 
Him  who  when  here  was  the  living  image  of 
the  invisible  God.  The  great  epochs  of  life,  of 
^  faith,  of  powerful  action,  have  been  those  Avhcn 
Heaven  has  opened  upon  humanity.  Man  in 
depending  upon  himself,  can  become  but  a  stoic, 
and  the  last  word  of  stoicism  is  despair  and 
suicide.  Thus,  always  when  religion  is,  and 
wants  to  be,  only  human,  it  produces  discour- 
agement. 

These  are  some  of  the  causes  which  will  ex- 
plain to  you  the  condition  in  which  so  many 
souls  languish  at  the  present  time.  Add  to 
these  the  influence  of  certain  tendencies  of  spirit 
and  temperament,  causes  entirely  physical,  which 
act  in  a  mysterious  but  powerful  manner  on  the 
moral  state.  Add  to  these  that  inclination  which 
the  most  serious  minds  have  to  look  on  the 
sad  side  of  human  things.  Add  those  tendencies 
which  exist  in  all  ages,  but  which,  in  the  gen- 
eral condition  which  I  have  just  described  de- 
velop with  much  more  power  and  rapidity; — 
and  you  will  comprehend  why  nothing  is  rarer 
in  these  days  than  that  joyous,  heroic,  serene 
faith  which  characterized  other  ages;  you  will 
understand    that    discouragement    is    an    enemy 


DISCO  UNA  G  EM E  NT.  259 


which   must    be    combated    at    all    hazards.     All 
feel  it,  all  mourn  it. 

In  certain  circles  it  is  sought  to  escape  from 
it  by  excesses  of  feverish  zeal.  The  imagination 
is  excited  by  the  prospect  of  the  immediate  real- 
ization of  the  promises  of  prophecy.  There  is 
thus  produced  an  enkindling  more  or  less  sin- 
cere; but  this  galvanic  excitement  is  soon  fol- 
lowed by  a  more  profound  prostration.  These 
fictitious  but  intermittent  flashes  only  terminate 
in  changing  this  languor  into  incredulity.  What 
must  be  done  then  '^.  you  will  say  to  me.  I  will 
answer  you,  Build  up  your  life  on  another  foun- 
dation than  that  of  your  passing  impressions;  fix 
it  upon  the  central,  eternal  truth  which  domi- 
nates over  the  fluctuations  of  opinions  and  beliefs; 
live  in  Jesus  Christ;  and  upon  the  heights  to 
which  this  communion  lifts  you,  breathe  the  vivi- 
fying air  which  alone  can  give  you  strength. 
Then  only  can  you  oppose  faith  to  sight,  the 
eternal  to  the  transitory,  and  thanksgiving  to 
discouragement.  But  this  is  to  tell  you  that  you 
must  be,  must  (it  may  be)  become  again.  Chris- 
tians. Now  this  remedy,  the  only  efficacious 
one  for  the  evil  under  which  we  all  suffer,  is  not 
to  be  reached  in  a  single  day. 


26o  DISCOURAGEMENT. 


V 


I  agree  to  it;  so,  after  having  pointed  it  out  to 
you,  I  hasten  to  descend  with  you  upon  th6 
ground  of  immediate  action.  Let  us  inquire  un- 
der what  forms  discouragement  most  frequently 
takes  possession  of  us,  and  by  what  weapons 
it  can  be  repulsed.  This  invisible  and  gloomy 
enemy  which  attacks  us  secretly  in  the  twilight 
of  our  vacillating  faith,  let  us  bring  it  out  to-day 
into  broad  daylight;  let  us  look  at  it  with  a  firm 
straightforward  look:  to  understand  it  well,  is 
already  to  have  half  vanquished  it. 

In  going  to  the  bottom  of  things  I  discover 
two  principal  causes  of  the  discouragement  of 
the  Christian.  The  first  is  the  greatness  of  the 
task  which  God  sets  before  him;  the  second  is 
his  inability  to  accomplish  it. 

I  say  first,  the  greatness  of  the  task  which 
God  sets  before  us.  What  !  doubtless  some  en- 
thusiastic soul  will  reply  to  me,  is  it  not  this 
very  greatness  which  kindles  in  the  heart  of  the 
Christian  an  ambition  that  nothing  can  extin- 
guish .-*  Yes,  I  agree  to  it,  we  are  so  constituted 
that  every  time  the  ideal  of  love  and  holiness  to 
which  the  Gospel  calls  us,  is  presented  to  us  in 
its  sublime  beauty,  our'  heart  vibrates  with  a 
profound   assent,  and  we  feel  that  it   is  for  this 


DISCOURAGEMENT.  26 1 


end  that  we  were  created.  But  when  we  must 
not  only  admire  but  act,  when  we  must  no  longer 
let  the  imagination  kindle  at  a  perfection  which 
ravishes  it,  but  must  realize  this  perfection  in  life, 
then  we  measure  with  dismay  the  distance  which 
separates  us  from  it,  and  discouragement  seizes 
us. 

See  what  takes  place  in  human  affairs.  Let  a 
commonplace  mind  propose  some  end  common- 
place like  himself,  it  will  cost  him  but  little 
trouble  to  attain  it;  artist,  thinker  or  poet,  he 
will  be  easily  satisfied.  But  let  a  true  genius  con- 
ceive a  sublime  ideal,  let  him  seek  to  reproduce 
it,  you  will  hear  him  mourn  over  his  failures. 
Each  of  his  efforts  will  perhaps  produce  a  chef- 
d'œuvre  which  will  satisfy  everybody  but  himself. 
It  will  be  like  the  greatest  poet  of  Rome  com- 
manding that  his  immortal  work  be  burned  at 
his  death;  like  Saint  Cecilia,  according  to  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  legends  of  the  middle 
age,  breaking  her  musical  instruments  when 
she   hears  in  the  distance  the  chorus  of  angels. 

Suppose  now  that  the  Scriptures  had  proposed 
no  other  end  for  us  to  attain  than  worldly  in- 
tegrity, that  wholly  external  probity  which  looks 
to  the  outside  of  life,  which  confines  itself  to  the 


202  D I  SCOUR  A  CEMENT. 


worship  of  honor  and  decorum.  All  would  aim 
at  it  without  doubt,  for  all  would  be  confident  of 
reaching  it.  But  when  it  is  a  question  of  being 
holy  before  God  as  well  as  before  men,  of  sub- 
jecting to  the  divine  law  not  only  our  acts, 
but  our  intentions,  and  of  bowing  day  after  day, 
hour  after  hour,  under  the  sanctifying  discipline 
of  the  Spirit  of  God, — then  the  further  we  ad- 
vance, the  farther  off  seems  the  end,  and  the 
very  greatness  of  our  task  rises  before  us  some- 
times, as  before  one  in  a  nightmare  there  rises 
a  huge  wall  which  must  be  scaled  at  all  hazards. 
Let  us  suppose  again  that  the  Gospel  had 
proposed  to  us  no  other  ideal  of  charity  than 
the  love  of  country,  and  that  it  called  upon  us 
to  seek  in  humanity  only  the  triumph  of  a  po- 
litical system;  none  would  recoil  before  this  end. 
But  you  all  know  that  it  demands  something 
other  than  this.  You  know  that  it  prescribes 
for  us  not  only  that  love  of  our  neighbors, 
which  is  after  all  only  an  enlarged  selfishness, 
but  charity,  and,  if  need  be,  charity  which  goes 
even  as  far  as  sacrifice;  you  know  that  it  spreads 
before  us  like  an  open  field  all  the  miseries,  all 
the  sufferings  of  humanity;  that  it  does  not  per- 
mit us  to  ifjnore  even  the  cries  of  distress  which 


DISCO  URA  GEMENT.  263 


come  to  us  from  the  extremities  of  the  world. 
You  know  that  it  forbids  us  to  repose  in  our 
ease  and  in  a  satisfied  selfishness;  that  it  binds 
us  in  some  measure  to  all  the  sorrows  which 
surround  us;  that  it  cries  out  to  us  as  to  Cain, 
"  What  hast  thou  done  with  thy  brother  ?  "  and 
that  before  our  cowardice,  always  ready  to  give 
up  this  sublime  task,  it  lifts  up  like  an  accusing 
image,  the  bloodstained  and  divine  form  of  cru- 
cified Love. 

Now,  this  is  what  terrifies  us,  this  is  what 
wounds  and  irritates  us.  Oh  !  how  much  more 
would  we  prefer  a  religion  which  leaves  us  to 
ourselves,  and  does  not  invade  our  independence 
and  lay  its  hand  upon  our  heart  !  Shall  I  dare 
to  say  it }  There  are  times  when  all  the  wicked 
powers  of  our  soul  angrily  revolt  against  that 
law  of  love  and  holiness;  times  when  we  say 
to  God,  "  Why  hast  Thou  made  it  known  unto 
me  .''  Why,  while  others  go  along  careless  and 
joyous,  carried  away  at  the  will  of  their  pleasure, 
their  interest  and  their  lusts,  why  hast  Thou  put 
before  me  this  task  which  overwhelms  me  by  its 
very  greatness  }  Why  hast  Thou  created  in  my 
conscience  that  thirst  for  holiness  which  troubles 
all  my  wicked  joys  }     Why  hast  Thou  placed  in 


204  DISCO  URA  G  E  ME  NT. 


my  heart  that  love  which  poisons  all  my  pleas- 
ures and  makes  me  feel,  even  in  their  delights, 
their  bitterness  and  the  nothingness  of  their 
vanity  ?  " 

Thus  do  our  foolish  complainings  ascend  to 
God,  and  yet,  what  would  we  wish  Him  to  do  ? 
That  He  demand  less  of  us,  that  He  propose  to 
us  less  than  holiness,  less  than  love  ?  But  what 
a  God  would  He  be  who  would  be  satisfied  in 
this  way  ?  Ah  !  you  would  not  believe  in  Him  for 
a  single  day.  He  would  be  inferior  to  you,  and 
your  conscience  would  exact  that  which  He  Him- 
self no  longer  exacted.  My  brethren,  we  must 
choose,  either  to  degrade  the  divine  law  to  the 
level  of  our  base  nature,  or  to  raise  our  nature 
to  the  level  of  the  divine  law. 

Alas  !  You  know  what  most  men  are  doing; 
they  are  effacing,  by  continuous  contact  with  the 
world,  the  image  of  God  engraven  on  their  hearts, 
deforming  the  soul  in  order  to  bend  it  to  the  ac- 
cepted standard  of  morals,  smothering  the  voice 
of  their  conscience  and  heart.  But  you  cannot 
do  this.  If  I  should  counsel  you  thus  for  a  mo- 
ment, if  from  this  pulpit,  in  order  to  please  your 
selfishness,  I  preached  a  degraded  standard  of 
morals,  you  might  applaud  me,  but  there  would 


DISCO  UK  A  G  EMENT.  265 


be  something-  in  you  which  would  despise  my 
preaching.  No,  you  know  too  much  to  renounce 
the  ideal  to  which  God  calls  you.  All  the  rea- 
sonings, all  the  sophisms  of  the  world  and  of 
your  own  heart  will  try  in  vain  to  bring  about 
the  change.  A  voice,  supreme,  imperative,  cries 
out  to  you,  that  it  is  to  God  your  life  must  be 
brought  back,  to  that  God  who  owns  you  by 
right  of  creation,  and  by  right  of  salvation.  In- 
stead of  degrading  the  divine  law  to  the  level 
of  your  nature,  the  only  solution  to  this  terrible 
problem  which  is  worthy  of  God  and  of  your- 
selves is  to  elevate  your  nature  to  the  level  of  the 
law  of  God;  but  is  this  solution  possible.''  It  is, 
for  it  ought  to  be;  it  is,  because  our  conscience 
affirms  it  to  us;  it  is,  because  God  declares  it 
to  us;  and  He  who  knows  of  what  we  are  made, 
He  who  knows  our  miseries,  our  corruption,  and 
our  incurable  weakness,  does  not  wish  to  present 
to  us  any  other  end  than  to  be  like  Him.  Dare 
to  say  He  beguiles  us,  dare  to  say  that  He  holds 
up  before  us  an  end  impossible  of  attainment, 
that  He  trifles  with  us  in  creating  in  our  souls  a 
desire  without  object,  a  hunger  without  appease, 
a  search  without  issue; — or,  rather,  believe  in  the 
God  of  the  Gospel  who  places  before  us  the  ideal, 


266  DISCOURAGEMENT. 


> 


and  incites  us  unceasingly  to  realize  it;  who  calls 
us,  converts  us,  regenerates  us,  and  after  hav- 
ing commenced  the  work  of  our  salvation  wishes 
to  continue  and  complete  it. 

But  here  I  hear  your  objection.  You  agree 
with  me  that  the  end  which  the  Gospel  pro- 
poses to  us  is  alone  worthy  of  God  and  of  your- 
selves; but  you  oppose  to  me  your  experience, 
you  show  me  your  languishing  faith,  your  sta- 
tionary life,  your  fruitless  efforts,  and  you  are 
ready  to  repeat  with  the  prophet,  "  As  for  me 
I  have  labored  in  vain,  I  have  spent  my  strength 
for  naught,  and  in  vain."  The  ill  success  of  his 
labor  is,  as  we  have  already  said,  the  second 
cause  of  the  Christian's  discouragement. 

Before  replying  to  you,  my  brethren,  let  me 
recall  to  you  a  fact  which  you  like  myself  may 
have  observed.  Do  you  know  what  Christians 
mourn  the  most  deeply  over  the  ill  success  of 
their  efforts  .■'  They  are  almost  always  the  most 
active  and  the  most  advanced  Christians.  Yes, 
listen  to  it,  that  man  whose  sanctified  life  is  a 
model  to  you,  who  lives  in  the  midst  of  the 
world  as  not  of  the  world,  who  preaches  by 
his  works  more  than  by  his  words,  who,  severe 
toward  himself,  lenient  toward  others,  astonishes 


DISCO  URA  G  E  ME  NT.  267 


you  by  his  vigilance,  his  self-denial,  his  charity. 
You  will  hear  him  mourn  over  his  weaknesses, 
his  lukewarmness,  his  little  zeal:  you  will  hear 
him  speak  with  a  sincere  dismay  of  all  the  boun- 
ties God  has  bestowed  on  him  for  so  many  years, 
of  the  responsibility  which  weighs  on  his  soul,  of 
the  time  he  has  lost,  of  the  opportunities  he  has 
missed;  you  will  hear  him  apply  to  himself  with- 
out affectation  the  most  humiliating  passages  of 
Scripture,  and  ask  God  to  pardon  even  his  good 
works  where  his  own  eye  recognizes  the  tares 
with  the  wheat,  and  the  dirt  mixed  with  the 
pure  gold.  Or  yet  again,  draw  near  to  those 
giants  of  the  spiritual  order,  those  workmen  of 
God  who  in  different  ages  have  been  called  Elijah, 
St.  Paul,  Chrysostom,  St.  Bernard,  Luther,  or 
Whitfield,  and  who  confound  you  by  the  immense 
work  which  they  have  accomplished: — you  will 
hear  them  groan  under  the  small  results  of  their 
works.  Elijah  cries  out  to  God:  "  Take  away  my 
life,  I  am  not  better  than  my  fathers."  Isaiah 
pronounces  the  words  of  my  text:  "I  have  spent 
my  strength  for  naught,  and  in  vain."  St.  Paul 
trembles  in  fear  of  having  been  a  useless  la- 
borer; St.  Bernard  expresses  in  his  last  letters 
the  painful   feeling   of  having  accomplished   al- 


268  nrSCOURAGEMRNT. 


most  nothing.  Calvin  dying  said  to  those  who 
surrounded  him:  "  All  that  I  have  done  has  been 
of  no  value.  The  wicked  will  gladly  seize  upon 
this  word.  But  I  repeat  it,  all  that  I  have 
done  has  been  of  no  value,  and  I  am  a  miser- 
able creature."^ 

What  must  we  conclude .''  That  these  men 
did  nothing.^  No,  but,  that  in  the  presence 
of  the  ideal  which  God  has  put  in  their  heart, 
their  work  appeared  to  them  almost  lost.  It 
is  in  effect,  my  brethren,  that  it  enters  into 
God's  plan  to  conceal  from  us  almost  always 
the  results  of  what  we  do  for  Him.  In  oth- 
er domains  the  success  of  truth  appears  often 
visible,  illustrious.  Here  it  seems  as  if  the 
seed  were  lost,  the  bread  swallowed  up  under 
the  waters  on  which  it  was  cast,  and  all  work  in 
the  end  remained  fruitless. 

Why  does  God  will  it  .-*  First  of  all,  doubtless, 
that  faith  may  be  exercised.  Picture,  if  but  an 
instant,  a  Christian  life,  where  each  effort  will 
bear  its  fruits,  where  response  will  follow  prayer, 
harvest  seed-time,  and  the  joy  of  deliverance 
long  and  painful  sacrifices.  In  such  a  case  who 
would  not  be  a  Christian,  who  would  not  want 
'  Les  Lettres  Françaises  de  Calvin,  II.  p.  576. 


DISCOURAGEMENT.  269 


to  be  one  at  this  price  ?  Self-interest  would  be 
the  first  motive  with  all,  and  the  kingdom  of  God 
would  be  peopled  with  mercenaries.  But  where 
would  be  the  sublime  spectacle  of  the  faith  which 
hopes,  which  waits  and  acts  without  seeing,  and 
how  could  God  glorify  Himself  therein  ?  But 
God  does  not  wish  to  be  served  by  mercenaries. 
He  often  hides  from  His  children  the  fruit  of 
their  labors,  to  the  end  that  they  may  work  for 
Him  and  not  for  themselves;  He  hides  it  from 
them  in  order  that  they  may  find  in  Him  their 
recompense,  and  not  in  the  result  of  their  work, 
nor  in  the  outward  success  which  would  take 
the  place  of  His  approbation,  nor  even  in  the 
progress  of  a  sanctified  life,  for  perfection  apart 
from  Him  might  become  an  idol. 

But  it  is  not  only  to  strengthen  our  faith  that 
God  treats  us  thus,  it  is  also  to  humble  us.  Ah! 
my  brethren,  how  seldom  is  it  that  man  can  bear 
success,  and  not  bend  under  its  weight  !  You 
have  often  in  the  world  admired  a  great  man 
from  a  distance;  as  long  as  you  knew  only  his 
works,  he  seemed  to  you  placed  on  a  pedestal,  a 
prestige  surrounded  him,  everything  about  him 
seemed  on  the  level  of  his  genius,  and  you  would 
have    believed   him   elevated    far   above    all    our 


270  DISCO  URA  CEMENT. 


littleness.  So  have  you  thought  until  you  got 
a  close  view  of  him  ;  then  you  were  aston- 
ished to  find  in  that  soul  of  savant,  artist,  or 
writer,  all  the  miseries  that  overexcited  self-love 
and  vanity  can  develop;  you  have  seen  him,  a 
prey  to  sordid  envies,  depreciate  his  rivals,  deny 
the  genius  of  others,  unite  pedantry  with  osten- 
tation; you  have  seen  the  finest  talents  asso- 
ciated with  the  smallest  character,  and  you 
have  grieved  over  humanity  because  of  it.  Do  I 
draw  here  an  imaginary  picture,  and  is  it  not  a 
fact  a  thousand  times  observed  }  There  is  in 
success  an  intoxication  which  few  men  can  bear. 
Picture  to  yourself,  then,  success  in  a  divine 
work  becoming  thus  a  source  of  intoxication  to 
him  who  obtains  it,  seducing  his  mind,  swelling 
his  heart  and  filling  it  with  vanity  the  most  un- 
worthy, at  the  very  moment  when  he  is  talking 
of  what  is  grandest,  most  sacred  in  the  world. 
Picture  to  yourself,  oh  the  blasphemy  of  it,  a  St. 
Paul,  full  of  himself,  intoxicated  with  his  own 
glory,  seeking  to  make  a  name  for  himself,  work- 
ing but  for  his  own  interests.  Now  this  is  the 
scandal  which  God  would  spare  His  Church,  and, 
while  in  all  other  domains  the  most  ardent  self- 
ishness and  the  most  glaring  pride  often  attain 


DISCOURAGEMENT.  27 1 


the  grandest  results,  God  has  willed  that,  in  His 
kingdom,  the  empire  of  souls  shall  belong  only 
to  those  who  renounce  themselves.  Thus,  in 
order  to  save  His  servants  from  the  intoxication 
of  success,  it  pleases  Him  to  hide  from  them  the 
result  of  their  work  and  to  send  them  in  the 
midst  of  their  most  fruitful  activity  the  most  bit- 
ter incitements  to  discouragement.  Severe  dis- 
cipline of  love,  by  which  He  recovers  those  whom 
He  loves,  and  chastises  those  whom  He  makes 
His  chosen  instruments  ! 

It  is  not  only  humility  which  He  teaches  them 
in  this  school,  it  is  moreover  gentleness  and 
compassion.  Success  alone  will  never  develop 
these.  Success  gives  strength.  Strength  !  Ah  ! 
that  is  a  great  deal,  without  doubt:  but  some- 
thing besides  strength  is  needed  to  do  good  here 
below.  If  there  are  times  when  a  strong  arm 
is  necessary,  there  are  other  times  when  what 
is  most  necessary  is  a  soft  and  delicate  hand 
which  does  not  break  the  bruised  reed.  When 
Jesus  pronounced  that  sublime  word,  "  Come 
unto  Me  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden 
and  I  will  give  you  rest,"  He  did  not  add, 
"  Come  unto  Me,  for  I  am  strong,"  He  said, 
*'  Come  unto  Me,  for  I   am  meek  and   lowly  of 


272  DISCOURAGEMENT. 


heart."  Admirable  expression  which  shows  all 
the  power  of  the  lowly,  hidden  virtues  of  ten- 
derness and  of  compassion.  These  virtues  He 
possessed  to  the  full,  He  whom  the  Bible  calls 
by  turns  the  Lion  of  Judah  and  the  Lamb  of  God. 
But  He  will  produce  them  —  Oh  the  marvel  of 
it  ! — in  a  former  Pharisee,  in  Saul  of  Tarsus.  He 
will  make  of  this  hero  of  the  faith,  of  this  giant, 
this  invincible  wrestler,  a  man  who  can  write  to 
the  Thessalonians,  "  I  was  gentle  amon^  you, 
even  as  a  nurse  cherisheth  her  children."  He  will 
produce  in  this  rugged,  haughty,  proud  nature 
the  most  delicate  features  of  the  most  exquisite 
charity.  How  will  He  do  it .''  By  breaking  His 
power,  by  leaving  a  thorn  in  the  flesh,  by  ex- 
ercising Him  in  the  austere  school  of  patience. 
Is  it  not  this  that  can  alone  explain  to  you  the 
gentleness  of  Paul,  and  that  tender  solicitude  for 
the  feeble  which  throbs  all  through  his  epistles. 
Well,  I  appeal  to  yourselves,  when  you  are 
suffering,  when  your  soul  wavers  under  doubt, 
do  you  need  then  one  of  those  strong  souls, 
whose  serene  and  never  troubled  faith  ignores 
your  perplexities  .-*  No,  you  need  a  soul,  which 
like  your  own,  has  mourned,  which  has  suffered 
with    your    sufferings,    known    your    doubts,    fol- 


DISCO  URA  CEMENT.  273 


lowed  your  obscure  paths.  O  my  brethren,  all 
ye  who  have  known,  as  we,  the  sorrows  of  dis- 
couragement, you  who  have  prayed  without  a 
response,  have  labored  without  result,  what  was 
it  that  most  consoled  you  in  those  bitter  hours  ? 
Was  it  not  such  avowals  as  this  of  my  text  ? 
When  you  have  heard  an  Elijah  groan  because 
of  having  labored  in  vain,  an  Isaiah  crying,  "  I 
have  spent  my  strength  for  naught  and  in  vain," 
have  you  not  blessed  those  sister  souls,  in  whom 
you  may  recognize  your  own  struggles,  your 
griefs,  your  pains,  and  have  you  not  felt  your 
heart  become  calm,  your  faith  grow  strong,  in 
seeing  that  at  so  many  centuries  distance  you 
are  but  enduring  the  trials  from  which  these 
great  believers  came  out  victorious  ? 

Here  is  the  reason,  my  brethren,  so  far  at 
least  as  we  can  understand  it,  why  God  conceals 
from  us  the  fruit  of  our  labors.  Mark  it  well, 
however,  that  this  fruit  is  only  hidden;  it  will 
appear  in  due  time.  No,  no  one  in  serving  the 
Lord  has  the  right  to  say,  "  I  have  labored  in 
vain."  Let  him  say  it  who  has  succeeded  in 
everything,  and  who  has  cared  only  for  him- 
self— him  who  has  seen  his  coffers  filled,  his 
schemes   realized   and   prosperity   surpassing    his 


2  74  DISCO  URA  CEMENT. 


hopes.  Let  him  say  it  even  when  all  come  to 
congratulate  him  on  his  immense  labor,  on  his 
life  so  well  filled  up,  on  his  enormous  success; 
for,  in  working  for  himself  alone,  he  has  done 
but  a  work  of  naught.  But  the  believer  who 
has  referred  his  life  to  God,  though  he  has 
been  able  only  to  accomplish  in  secret  the 
humblest  of  works,  though  he  has  been  able 
only  to  mourn  in  forced  inaction  and  in  sick- 
ness, has  never  the  right  to  say,  "  'Tis  in  vain 
I  have  labored."  There  is  no  work  so  small 
that  God  does  not  accept  and  reward  it,  if  it 
has  been  prompted  by  love  to  Him.  You  never 
know  all  the  good  you  do,  when  you  do  good. 
Those  heroes  of  the  Bible  when,  faithful  to  duty, 
they  humbly  died  to  accomplish  it,  did  they 
know  what  a  heritage  of  strength,  courage,  and 
edification  they  were  leaving  to  all  the  cen- 
turies to  come  .''  When  St.  Stephen,  the  first  of 
the  martyrs,  sinking  under  the  blows  of  those 
who  stoned  him,  lifted  heavenward  an  angelic 
look  and  prayed  for  his  executioners,  did  he 
know  that  that  look  and  that  prayer  would 
make  upon  the  conscience  of  one  of  the  wit- 
nesses of  that  scene  an  indelible  impression, 
and  that,  by  a  wonderful   union   the  magnificent 


DISCOURAGEMENT.  275 


apostolate  of  Paul  would  be  connected  with  his 
death  ? 

And  you,  when  you  utter  an  humble  and  firm 
word  of  testimony  to  the  truth,  do  you  know 
whither  the  wind  will  carry  that  precious  seed 
and  in  what  heart  it  will  take  root  ?  Do  you 
know  what  result  will  follow  some  day  from  that 
sacrifice  which  was  unobserved,  that  devotion 
which  is  despised,  that  patient  love  which  seems 
to  remain  without  fruit  ? 

And  even  when  nothing  of  it  shall  remain  upon 
the  earth,  and  the  indifference  of  the  world  shall 
seem  to  conceal  forever  your  labors  and  your 
sacrifices,  there  will  be  left  you  the  consolation 
of  the  prophet,  "  My  judgment  is  with  the  Lord, 
and  my  work  with  my  God."  Yes,  this  it  is 
which  ever  constitutes  the  strength  of  the  Chris- 
tian. Solitary,  deserted,  despised  by  men,  he 
has  for  witness,  for  approver,  for  judge,  the  in- 
visible Master,  whom  nothing  escapes  and  by 
whom  nothing  is  forgotten.  God  has  seen  him, 
that  suffices  him;  he  has  not  lost  his  reward. 

Does  this  imply,  my  brethren,  that  I  would  ap- 
peal indirectly  to  interested  motives,  and  exhort 
you  to  labor  with  the  view  of  assured  wages  .■* 
We  are  often  reproached   with  this;   I  hear  to- 


2  76  DISCOUR  A  CEMENT. 


day  a  haughty  philosophy  tell  us  that  after  all  we 
only  know  how  to  work  for  success;  I  hear  our 
modern  stoics  thus  assail,  from  the  height  of 
their  serenity,  our  hope  in  the  final  recompense. 
They  tell  us,  these  pretended  sages,  that  the 
approbation  of  conscience  suffices,  and  that  the 
honest  man  needs  nothing  more.  What  do  they 
mean  by  this  .'*  That  the  good  should  be  loved 
for  itself,  and  not  from  a  motive  outside  of  the 
good,  that  God  should  be  served  not  because  He 
rewards,  but  because  He  is  the  truth  itself.^  Is 
this  their  idea .''  But  we  have  said  this  before 
them,  and  a  thousand  times  have  we  in  the  name 
of  the  gospel  combated  that  servile,  interested 
spirit,  which  seeks  its  own  while  pretending  to 
serve  God.  But  while  condemning  the  grosser 
motive,  the  inferior  allurement  of  recompense, 
shall  we  go  so  far  as  to  say  that  the  approval 
of  conscience  suffices .''  No,  my  brethren,  this 
were  to  ignore  human  nature,  to  crush  its  best 
instincts.  We  cannot  be  our  own  end,  nor  our 
own  judge;  we  cannot  be  a  reward  unto  our- 
selves. We  must  have  a  witness  of  our  conduct, 
a  look  which  encolu-agcs  us,  a  heart  which  un- 
derstands us.  What  demands  it  also  is  that 
imperative   need  of  justice  which  wills  that  the 


DISCO  UNA  CEMENT.  277 


good  never  come  to  naught,  but  that  it  find  its 
sanction  in  the  disposition,  in  the  approbation  of 
the  universal  Judge.  If  you  only  leave  to  man 
his  conscience,  you  will  have  the  grand  but  hope- 
less spectacle  of  the  stoicism  which  commits  sui- 
cide in  order  to  escape  from  the  triumph  of  evil.  If 
on  the  contrary  you  show  us  a  God  who  under- 
stands us,  who  encourages  us,  who  counts  our 
sighs,  our  tears,  our  sacriiices,  you  kindle  in  the 
heart  of  humanity  a  courage  which  nothing  can 
extinguish,  not  even  the  bitterest  ill-success. 
Count,  if  you  can,  all  the  souls  which  this  feel- 
ing alone  upholds  against  despair. 

Often  on  Sunday  morning  when  we  unite  in 
our  songs  and  prayers,  and  feel  our  faith  grow 
strong  in  fraternal  communion,  I  think  of  those 
from  whom  these  blessings  are  withheld;  I  think 
of  that  isolated  pastor,  pursuing  laboriously  his 
ministry  in  the  midst  of  an  indifferent  or  perhaps 
hostile  people,  praying  without  response,  preach- 
ing without  success,  and  forced  to  say  in  looking 
back — "  I  have  labored  in  vain,  I  have  spent  my 
strength  for  naught  and  in  vain  "  ;  I  think  of 
that  missionary  stationed  in  a  pagan  land,  gath- 
ering together  a  few  proselytes  who  scarcely  un- 
derstand him,  and  feeling  that  all  the  aspirations 


278  DISCOURAGEMENT. 


of  his  heart  are  withering  under  a  freezing  indif- 
ference, a  stupid  and  gloomy  opposition.  For 
such,  each  of  these  Sundays,  which  are  the 
church's  festivals,  is  as  it  were  a  new  trial  of 
faith,  when  the  bitter  sense  of  the  vanity  of  their 
efforts  comes  to  haunt  them  unceasingly.  Ah  ! 
my  brethren,  these  are  the  heroes  of  the  faith. 
One  often  looks  at  ministers  who  are  encouraged 
by  success  and  says  of  them,  "What  ardor!  what 
zeal  !  "  As  for  me,  I  would  say  to  you,  even  as 
Jesus  Christ,  "  Is  it  there  you  look  .-'"  Is  it  a  great 
task  and  a  very  difficult  mission  to  preach  to 
sympathetic  hearts  and  minds,  to  speak  the  truth 
where  one  is  sure  beforehand  that  it  will  be  lis- 
tened to  and  perhaps  accepted  ?  Ah  !  if  God  in 
His  divine  wisdom  did  not  see  fit  to  join  to  such 
a  ministry  secret  crosses  and  hidden  humiliations, 
how  much  reason  would  there  be  to  fear  that  in 
pursuing  it  one  is  walking  by  sight  rather  than 
by  faith,  that  the  approbation  of  man  takes  the 
place  of  the  approbation  of  God  !  No,  the  real 
combatants,  the  true  heroes  are  those  in  unknown 
and  inglorious  posts,  confronting  alone  an  incred- 
ulous world,  alone  in  believing,  in  hoping,  in  lov- 
ing, called  by  a  severe  dispensation  to  sow  with- 
out reaping,  and  scoffed  at  perhaps  by  an  unbelief 


DISCOURAGEMENT.  279 


which  thrusts  at  them  the  word  of  the  psalm, 
"What  is  thy  God  doing?" 

Ah  !  I  know  that  God  who  sees  them  and 
knows  their  anguish,  reserves  for  them  secret 
compensations;  I  know  that  in  their  isolation, 
they  advance  farther  than  we  in  the  communion 
of  Christ's  sufferings,  and  that  they  feel  more 
closely  united  to  the  crucified  Witness  of  un- 
heeded truth,  who  saw  His  own  ministry  despised, 
who  reached  out  His  arms  to  a  rebellious  people, 
who  wept  over  Jerusalem,  and  whose  dying  eyes 
gazed  upon  a  people  who  cursed  Him.  But  what 
would  they  do,  I  ask  you,  if  they  had  not  this 
refuge  ?  What  would  they  do  if  they  could  not 
say  with  the  prophet,  "  My  judgment  is  with  the 
Lord,  and  my  work  with  my  God." 

But  why  choose  these  extreme  examples  ? 
After  all,  mark  it  well,  this  trial  is  the  lot  of  all 
of  us,  if  we  are  truly  disciples  of  Jesus  Christ. 
The  best  part  of  our  life  escapes  the  world,  for 
the  world  sees  but  the  exterior.  There  are  vir- 
tues, sacrifices,  which  are  recompensed  here  on 
earth  by  recognition  and  love.  But  this  is  the 
exception.  Do  you  know  what  keeps  the  world 
alive,  do  you  know  what  saves  humanity  .!*  It  is 
those  thousands  of  obscure  acts,  of  unknown  de- 


28o  DISCOURAGEMENT. 


votions,  of  silent  sacrifices  of  which  God  alone 
is  witness,  and  which  would  not  happen  but  for 
Him.  Yes,  if  there  are  Christian  nations  who 
carry  with  them  the  future  of  the  world — that  is 
to  say  progress,  liberty,  faith  and  hope — if  there 
is  on  earth  an  asylum  for  the  suffering,  if  there  is 
a  church  where  the  gospel  can  be  preached,  all 
this  had  not  been  possible,  be  sure  of  it,  except  by 
virtue  of  heroism  in  the  past,  of  self-sacrifices 
buried  in  oblivion.  Like  those  Roman  walls, 
formed  of  small  stones  joined  by  an  imperish- 
able cement,  which  have  braved  the  assaults  of 
centuries,  the  foundations  of  the  church  are 
formed  of  small  virtues  which  none  can  ever 
estimate. 

We  are  the  inheritors  of  eighteen  centuries  of 
sacrifices,  and  of  these  the  world  sees  but  the 
least  part.  No  ear  hath  heard,  no  voice  will 
rehearse  all  of  the  anguish,  nor  of  the  firm- 
ness, the  sublime  courage  which  is  hidden  in 
those  cells,  in  those  dungeons  where  the  martyrs 
of  the  faith  have  yielded  up  their  lives  by  thou- 
sands; nor  can  any  one  tell  all  of  the  forgivings, 
the  generous  forgettings,  the  sacrifices,  the  vic- 
tories over  the  flesh  and  over  pride,  which  the 
Christian   faith   accomplishes   every  day   in   our 


DISCO  URA  G  EM E  NT.  2  8 1 


own  midst.  But  how  would  these  dearly  bought 
triumphs,  which  often  cost  so  many  tears,  be  pos- 
sible if  the  Christian  were  not  able  to  say,  "  My 
judgment  is  with  the  Lord  and  my  work  with  my 
God  ?  " 

To  work  then,  discouraged  souls  !  Shake  off 
that  gloomy  torpor  which  paralyzes  you,  that 
unhealthy  sadness  in  which  you  delight.  To 
work  !  And  do  not  add  to  the  many  days  lost 
in  the  past,  as  many  new  days  given  up  to  a 
fruitless  regret.  Oh,  that  you  may  bring  to  the 
service  of  the  adorable  Master  all  that  world- 
lings know  how  to  give  of  their  time,  heart  and 
life,  to  that  vanity  which  destroys  them  !  Is  it 
not  in  the  service  of  the  world  that  it  may  be 
said,  "  I  have  labored  in  vain  !  I  have  spent  my 
strength  for  naught  and  in  vain  }  "  And  if  one 
does  not  say  it  to-day  while  dazzled  by  its  fleet- 
ing lustre,  will  he  not  be  compelled  to  say  it 
at  that  dreadful  moment  when  illusion  will  be 
impossible,  when  Death  will  speak,  when  the 
world  can  no  longer  offer  consolation  or  hope, 
and  when  account  must  be  rendered  to  God  of 
the  talents  He  has  confided  to  us.  O  despair  ! 
O  misery  !  To  have  lived  only  for  self;  to  have 
played    perhaps   a   great    rôle,    attained    a   high 


282  DISCOURAGEMENT. 


position,  gained  fortune  and  fame,  and  after  all 
that,  to  discover  that  one's  life  has  been  wasted 
and  that  the  all-essential  has  been  forgotten  ! 
To  learn  all  this,  but  too  late,  to  see  the  night 
of  one's  agony  illuminated  by  the  light  of  the 
Gospel  as  by  the  lightning's  flash,  to  understand 
how  one  ought  to  live  at  the  moment  when  one 
must  die  ! 

Well,  these  dreadful  surprises  you,  my  breth- 
ren, do  not  fear.  You  know  whither  your  life 
leads,  for  it  reaches  to  eternity,  and  whatever 
may  be  your  trials,  you  have  the  unspeakable  joy 
of  serving  the  living  and  faithful  God.  And  you 
who  know  all  the  grandeur,  all  the  beauty  of  a 
Christian  life,  who  believe  that  not  one  of  your 
efforts  is  lost,  who  bring  each  his  stone  to  the 
great  edifice  which  God  is  raising  through  the 
centuries, — do  you  groan,  do  you  bow  your  heads 
and  drop  your  arms  from  weariness,  do  your 
hearts  fail  you  .-'  You  believe  in  the  victory  of 
redeeming  love,  and  do  you  show  to  the  world 
a  languishing  and  joyless  piety,  a  discolored  re- 
ligion, an  extinguished  hope  .-*  And  what  suc- 
cess, what  triumph  do  you  expect  to  obtain, 
what  proselyting  would  you  accomplish  .-•  No, 
no,  it  is  not  in  looking  at  yourself  or  your  barren 


DISCO  URA  G  E  ME  NT.  2  83 


work,  it  is  in  looking  to  the  Captain  and  the  Fin- 
isher of  the  faith,  that  you  will  feel  strengthened. 
Security,  strength,  salvation,  victory,  are  found 
in  beholding  the  Sun  of  righteousness,  who  car- 
ries healing  in  His  beams. 

Lift  your  eyes  on  high,  then,  disciples  of 
Jesus  Christ  !  Against  all  the  evils  of  nature, 
all  the  sadness  of  the  soul,  all  the  delusions  of 
earth,  hold  up  the  unspeakable  beauty  of  the 
everlasting  good.  Above  this  world,  which  de- 
spises you  and  scoffs  at  you,  see  your  God  who 
is  looking  at  you,  listen  to  the  saints  who  ap- 
plaud you.  Rejoice  even  in  those  who  mock 
your  efforts,  for  they  will  obtain  inheritance  from 
your  sacrifice;  and  if  anything  can  save  them, 
it  is  your  indomitable  fidelity,  your  untiring  love. 
Courage  !  and  after  every  ill-success  and  every 
defeat,  repeat  these  steadfast  words,  "  My  judg- 
ment is  with  the  Lord,  and  my  work  with  my 
God  !  "     Amen. 


1  1 


012  01006  5839 


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